THECOA: 

2FFREEDO 


PJann*ofJ  Town*  of 

BOSTON 


fituated  upon?  MASSACHUSETBAY 

in yf  Northerlie  Coaftes  of 

NEWE  ENGLAND 


THE   COAST    OF    FREEDOM 


The 

Coast  of  Freedom 

A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  ADVENTUROUS 
TIMES    OF   THE   FIRST    SELF- 
MADE      AMERICAN 

by 

ADELE    MARIE    SHAW 


NEW  YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 
1902 


Copyright,  1901,  by 

DOUBLBDAY,   PACK  &   Co. 

Published  April,  1902 


TO  ANNE  DANA  BARROWS  SHAW  AND 
JUDSON  WADE  SHAW  TO  WHOM  ANY- 
THING GOOD  IN  THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE 


CONTENTS 


I.  IN     THE     DEAD     HOURS     . 

II.  BOUND     FOR    STRANGE     SEAS 

III.  "WHERE       BELOW      ANOTHER       SKY 
PARROT    ISLANDS    ANCHORED    LIE" 

IV.  "FOR   HELL   AND   THE   LADY"     . 

V.  ON    THE    SHIP    OF    THE     DEAD 

VI.  PIECES    OF    EIGHT       . 

VII.  THE     AWAKENING         .... 

VIII.  THE    LITTLE    MAID       .         . 

IX.  MUTINY  AND  AN  OMEN 

X.  THE    ROYAL    GOVERNOR 

XL  A    CRY    IN    THE    DARK 

XII.  IN  THE  FOREST  OF  FEARS    . 

XIII.  PILGRIM     AND     PURITAN 

XIV.  THE     GOVERNOR'S     DINNER 
XV.  "O     SWEET     CONTENT" 

XVI.  AT  THE   SIGN   OF   THE   ORANGE   TREE 

XVII.  MUDDY    RIVER    WOODS:     A    MESSEN- 
GER   AND    A    MEETING 

XVIII.  A     MIDNIGHT     CONFERENCE 

XIX.  INDIAN    RIDGE      .         .  ..      . 

XX.  "FOES    WITHIN"  . 

XXI.  THE    MADNESS    OF    BOTOLPH'S   TOWN 

XXII.  THE  "POISONED  CHALICE" 

XXIII.  THE  PEST  

XXIV.  A    PASTORAL    CALL      . 

vii 


PAGE 

I 

14 

24 
56 
71 

88 

96 

103 

IJ5 
132 

152 
168 

183 
190 

2IO 

228 

236 
249 

255 
27I 
283 
3°3 
315 

325 


CONTENTS 


XXV.     CHRISTMAS     EVE:      THE    WAY    PAST 

THE    INN           .....  340 

XXVI.     IN  THE  NAME  OF    THE    LORD       .         .  349 
XXVII.     THE   FLIGHT:     IN  THE  MIDST   OF  THE 

FOREST               .....  390 

XXVIII.     THREATS   FOR   THE   GOVERNOR     .         .  403 

XXIX.     THE    HUT    IN    THE    WILDERNESS         .  413 

XXX.     AN    ENCOUNTER    AND    AN    ACCIDENT  422 

XXXI.     KIDNAPPED             .....  429 

XXXII.     THE     PURSUIT 440 

XXXIII.     A    DEFENCE    AND    A    CAPTURE     .         .  447 
XXXIV.     "MANY      WATERS"       .         .                   -453 

XXXV.     THE    OLD    WAY 458 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

It  gives  us  much  pleasure  to  acknowledge  our 
indebtedness  to  Mr.  Henry  Wysham  Lanier,  to 
whose  suggestion  of  its  central  figure  the  book 
owes  its  existence,  to  our  father,  whose  interest  in 
our  Pilgrim  and  Puritan  forbears  had  made  the 
subject  a  congenial  one,  and  to  those  traditions  of 
our  mother's  girlhood  repeated  to  us  with  the 
sense  of  the  real,  the  present  and  the  human  that 
she  alone  could  give. 

My  brother  has  written  this  story  with  me  and, 
although  he  has  not  allowed  his  name  to  appear 
upon  the  title  page,  it  is  but  fair  it  should  be  set 
down  here  in  full — Albert  Judson  Shaw — to  take 
its  share  of  whatever  adverse  criticism  (or  worse 
indifference)  may  overtake  a  tale  that  is  from 
first  to  last  our  joint  and  indissoluble  labour. 

A.  M.  S. 


THE 

COAST    OF    FREEDOM 

CHAPTER    I 

IN    THE    DEAD    HOURS 

ROGER  drew  himself  up  from  the  water, 
climbed  hardily  through  the  darkness,  and 
stepped  out  upon  the  uncertain  footing 
above.  The  crazy  ladder  for  which  he  had  groped 
so  long  swayed  backward  from  his  lifted  weight 
and  the  stealthy  wash  of  ripples  followed  its 
motion.  Through  openings  in  the  mouldered 
planking  of  the  wharf  crawling  currents  of  air 
made  their  way  to  fasten  clammily  upon  his 
drenched  body.  He  shivered  as  he  sheltered 
himself  on  the  lee  side  of  some  loosely  piled 
lumber  that  blocked  his  path. 

The  pyramid  of  logs  and  boults  thrown  out  in 
all  haste  from  the  Pelloquin's  hold  told  him  where 
he  stood.  It  was  the  very  wharf  whereon  the 
cargo  of  his  own  ship  had  been  unloaded.  She 
lay  now,  the  Hopewell,  sister  to  the  Pelloquin,  far 
out  beyond  the  docks  waiting  for  the  dawn  that 
should  give  her  leave  to  sail. 

It  seemed  to  Roger  that  since  he  had  left  her 
the  darkness  and  chill  of  the  night  had  grown 
darker  and  more  chill.  London  slept;  but  un- 
easily, dismally,  sounds  of  discordant  life  marring 


2  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

its  dull  repose.  Here  by  the  water  side  the  cold 
and  damp,  the  blackness  of  the  "dead  hours," 
lay  heaviest,  the  silence  falling  the  more  profound 
for  the  harshness  of  each  intruding  noise.  Un- 
speakable odours  rose  from  the  river  to  mix  with  the 
nauseous  exhalations  of  the  land.  Ships,  dis- 
cernible only  as  a  blur  of  blacker  spots  upon  the 
inkiness  below,  were  huddled  close  along  the 
indentations  of  the  shore,  the  great  crossed  web 
of  spars  invisible.  Here  and  there  a  lantern  made 
a  vague  writing  badly  blotted  upon  the  night. 
Nowhere  an  outline  clear,  a  gleam  of  light  distinct. 

The  lad  leaned  against  a  projecting  beam,  whose 
tapering  end  showed  it  to  his  touch  already 
fashioned  for  a  bowsprit.  The  distance  from  the 
HopewelVs  side  had  been  longer  than  he  had 
thought;  his  breath  came  hard  after  his  swim, 
and  for  a  little  he  made  no  attempt  to  go 
farther.  Now  and  again  voices  broke  across  the 
water  loud  in  the  fog,  or  the  cries  of  late  roisterers 
in  the  town  dispersed  themselves  in  goblin  echoes 
among  the  clouds;  once  a  boisterous  group  flound- 
ered past  in  the  mud,  oars  dipped  cautiously, 
oaths  drove  home  orders  to  sleepy  ears,  tackle 
rattled  as  a  boat  was  swung  to  place.  Then  the 
night  was  dumb  again  save  where  the  plunge  of  a 
water  rat  set  the  sluggish  waves  awash  against 
the  slime-rotted  props  beneath  the  pier. 

The  smell  of  the  pine  was  clean,  and  pleasant 
to  his  nostrils,  sweetening  the  unsavoury  dark; 
the  jutting  timbers  shut  him  from  the  land,  sug- 
gesting shelter.  But  the  air  was  sharp.  It  took 
a  freezing  hold.  He  started,  facing  the  shore, 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  3 

and  would  have  passed  the  obstructing  lumber. 
At  the  same  instant  the  rough  way  that  ascended 
tunnel-wise  between  the  houses  resounded  to  other 
voices.  Words  exploded  in  riotous  shouts.  A 
very  bedlam  of  echoes  woke  between  the  sodden 
earth  and  the  low-hung  sky.  Over  the  stern 
bulwarks  of  the  Pelloquin  close  at  hand  someone 
launched  a  volley  of  answering  profanity  and  spat 
lustily  upon  the  sullen  flood  beneath. 

"Get   ye    to    th'    Dev'l,    Greg'ry    Bell'ngh'm!" 
came  from  the  townward  path. 
'  'S  not  far  for  such  as " 

Sharp  remonstrance,  commands,  accompanied 
the  roar,  interposing  between  the  listeners  and  the 
last  word.  Roger  halted,  having  no  mind  to  end 
his  adventure  at  the  wharf  side. 

'LI   not    'hush    fool,'  '     the    voice  went  on. 

'  Hush  fool !' — hush  dev'l,  say  I  !  Art  the  very 
Dev'l  himself,  Bell'ng'm !  Dost  hear,  Witherly? 
'Tizh  Old  Nick  employs  thee.  On  thy  kneezh — 
down  rascal — on  thy  kneezh  to  Sathanas !" 

Laughter  full  of  drunken  mockery,  then  a 
struggle  with  a  roar  less  jovial,  more  enraged. 
The  watch  on  the  Puritan  Pelloquin  stirred  again. 

"Shut  up,  ye  madmen,"  he  shouted.  "Hell 
take  your  blasphemies !" 

The  noisy  one  gave  no  heed  to  the  exhortation. 
The  clamour  of  his  voice  filled  the  air,  without  a 
break,  save  for  the  gaps  of  crapulous  indistinct- 
ness. 

"  Easy  task — th'  DevTs  job,  Witherly  !     What's 

besh  way — besh  road  to  Heaven  for  a  maid " 

The  word  was  cut  short,  but  the  shouting  emerged 


4  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

from  the  scuffle  louder  than  before.  "  Drown  her  ? 
— Too  slow.  Good  Dev'l — Bell'ng'm — lend  me 
a  broomstick — carry  her  off " 

A  fiercer  protest,  and  a  struggle  more  deter- 
mined. 

The  party  were  opposite  the  lad,  and  two  of 
them  showed  fleetingly  in  the  wavering  lantern 
gleam.  The  drunkard  seemed  the  smallest  of  the 
three.  In  his  dress  was  an  attempt  at  foppishness 
that  matched  as  ill  as  did  his  slender  frame  with 
the  robust  bellowings  of  his  voice.  The  com- 
panion who  supported  his  steps  gave  him  the 
uncertain  guidance  of  one  whose  own  legs  lurched 
under  the  effort.  Roger  could  see  the  insensate 
frenzy,  wild-eyed  and  quarrelsome,  of  the  master; 
the  wicked  look,  half  maudlin,  half  cunning,  of 
the  man. 

The  third,  who  had  been  called  Bellingham, 
was  closely  wrapped  and  stood  so  as  to  avoid  the 
light,  but  in  his  attitude  the  lad  could  read  savage 
contempt. 

"  Leave  my  name  alone Get  on — to  your  own 

wharf. "  He  spoke  low  and  furiously  as  they 
paused  before  the  mass  of  lumber. 

'Tis  but  three  beyond.  Best  not  come 
further,  sir. "  The  sailor  Witherly  made  a  sly 
gesture  of  warning  behind  the  drunkard's  back. 

"'Further'!  I'll  see  this  accursed  muddlehead 
upon  his  own  vessel!"  Not  the  words,  nor  the 
oaths  before  and  after,  but  something  in  the  voice 
came  upon  Roger  with  a  violent  repulsion — akin  to 
nausea,  wholly  unrelated  to  fear.  The  tone  was 
the  lowest  that  could  be  uttered  above  a  whisper 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  5 

but  it  had  a  quality  keen  and  poisonous  as  the 
night  air.  They  were  hardly  an  arm's  length 
from  where  the  lad  waited;  the  same  angle  of  the 
logs  that  sheltered  him,  between  them  and  the 
Pelloquin. 

The  drunkard  roared  again,  more  softly,  but 
with  a  more  sinister  mirth. 

"Wilt  do  nothing,  good  Dev'l,  'gainst  the 
will  of  th'  Seaflower's  master!"  he  hiccoughed. 
"Pretty  thought,  With'ly — gayes'  gallant  of  the 
Court — in  th'  pocket  of  the  Seaflower's  m " 

The  words  were  choked  into  infuriate  splutter- 
ing. Curses  such  as  the  lad  had  never  heard, 
even  from  the  foul-mouthed  skipper  of  the  Hope- 
well,  came  raging  forth,  torrent- wise,  from  the 
drunkard's  lips.  His  threats,  mumbled  and  in- 
coherent one  minute,  plain  and  articulate  the 
next,  evidently  alarmed  the  others.  They  were 
without  meaning  to  Roger  save  for  the  certainty 
of  a  villainy  afloat,  the  intuitive  horror  of  in- 
justice in  the  face  of  it. 

"Thou'rt  mine — Seaftower's  mine — an'  thou'rt 
mine.  One  whisper — at  th'  Court — where'd 
be  then  th'  King's  good  Bell'ng " 

The  sottish  ravings  had  become  all  at  once 
clear,  rising  to  a  threatening  shriek.  The  sound 
of  a  blow  and  a  fall — and  a  moment's  silence. 
Roger  did  not  hear  the  next  words  spoken.  He 
was  considering  his  own  position  should  they 
move  so  that  the  lantern  ray  revealed  him;  more 
than  all,  he  was  tingling  with  an  ever-growing 
longing  to  spring  out  upon  them  as  they  talked. 

It  was  the  sound  of  the  voice  he  had  so  instantly 


6  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

hated  that  brought  him  to  new  sense  of  their 
speech.  The  voice  was  still  low,  but  more  con- 
trolled, more  menacing,  and  so  the  more  re- 
pulsive. 

"  I  shall  know  all — the  witch  will  tell  me.  Ye're 
to  make  the  death  swift — and  the  proof  sure  for 
others.  If  ye  fail — if  ye  bungle — if  aught  be 
traced  to  me — the  reward  is  forfeit — and  your 
heads  will  answer.  If  I  get  nothing — ye  get  no 
more.  Let  thy  Captain  remember  that ! " 

"No  fear,  Sir.     The  Lady  never  fails." 

"My  men  are  on  the  hill, "  Bellingham  went  on, 
disregarding  the  interruption.  "I've  a  mind  to 
whistle  them  down — end  ye  both,  and  give  the 
task  to  better ' ' 

Again  the  sailor  broke  in  protesting. 

"There  be  no  better.  Who's  better  than  the 
Lady,  Sir !  'Tis  but  rare  to  see  'im  in's  cups. 
'Tis  for  that  he's  the  worse  when  'tis  upon  'im. 
He'll  be  straight  as  topsles,  come  the  morning — 
close-mouthed  as  London  Tower,  Sir.  The  Lady's 
your  man. " 

"Take  him  up — and  hold  thy  peace.  Be  glad  I 
hang  not  the  two  of  ye. "  Bellingham  kicked 
the  prostrate  form  as  Witherly  bent  to  raise  it.  A 
groan  followed  the  attempt.  Roger  could  not  see 
whether  the  Captain  departed  walking  or  carried, 
but  mutterings  of  returning  consciousness  answered 
the  other's  threat. 

' '  Hang' ! "  The  word  was  repeated  in  the  thick 
chuckle  of  fuddled  dreams.  "  'S  not  the  master 

'f — Seaflower  '11  'hang'.  'S  Gregory  Bell " 

The  syllables  were  gagged  upon  the  mumbling 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  •/ 

tongue.  The  three  withdrew  farther  into  the 
surrounding  blackness. 

Roger  stepped  cautiously  forth  into  the  muddy 
flat  that  lay  between  him  and  the  city,  seeking 
the  narrow  way  whence  the  Seaflower  party  had 
descended. 

He  had  reached  its  entrance,  his  foot  fairly  upon 
the  broken  flagging,  when  steps  clattered  again 
at  the  upper  end.  This  time  he  kept  sturdily  on, 
boyishly  unwilling  to  turn  his  back  upon  a  prob- 
able foe. 

"A  plague  on  thee,  Cousin!"  Each  syllable 
dropped  to  him  distinct  and  clear.  "There's  not 
an  if  in  the  whole  matter.  Out  on  thy  ifs  and 
buts!  We're  rich  already.  The  prize  is  there  ! " 

"Hush,  Ninny!"  The  interruption  dammed 
the  flow  of  jovial  remonstrance  as  a  sluice  gate 
descends  against  a  leaking  flood.  "Bellow  not  to 
wake  the  fleet !  Thy  voice  carrieth  like  a  trumpet ! " 

"And  thine  like  a  devil's  fiddle.  'Tis  less 
mellowed  by  our  good  William's  feast, "  answered 
the  other  in  an  amiable  shout. 

"Thou'rt  too  cautious,  Cousin — a  very  Round- 
head for  caution.  'Twas  caution  killed  a  cat. 
'Caution'  !  'Tis  boldness  he  needeth  most Bold- 
ness and  speed,  good  Captain  William,  and  listen 
not  to  his  Grace's  croaking.  The  prize  is  there — 
'tis  there,  I  say,  and  the  sooner  it  be  in  London " 

The  good-humoured  tones  broke  here  under  the 
impact  of  words  quieter  but  more  emphatic. 
Roger  was  keeping  doggedly  on,  approaching 
constantly  nearer  to  the  spot  where  the  yellow 
glow  of  torches  advanced  to  meet  his  feet. 


8  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

In  this  party  as  in  the  other,  were  three  men,  but 
the  lad  recognized  with  the  earliest  sound  of  their 
voices  that  here  was  no  villainy  hiding  its  face 
and  barely  picking  its  way  by  a  shrivelled  lantern 
glimmer.  As  he  climbed  toward  them  their 
words  came  to  him  ever  more  distinctly  and  his 
mind  fastened  with  idle  wonder  upon  the  allusion 
to  the  "prize."  What  prize?  And  where  were 
they  to  seek  it?  Would  that  he  were  bound  on 
some  gallant  adventure,  released  forever  from 
the  hateful  imprisonment  of  the  Hopewell ! 

The  party  were  now  plainly  visible.  The  two 
retainers  that  lighted  them  carried  each  a  heavy 
stick  in  the  right  hand  and  peered  into  the  lanes 
on  either  side,  alert  for  danger.  The  lad  saw  that 
they  wore  a  livery,  but  he  was  a  provincial  and 
did  not  know  the  colors  of  His  Grace  of  Albemarle 
from  the  scarlet  of  the  King's  outriders. 

The  Duke  alone  was  talking,  his  hand  in  a  warn- 
ing grip  on  the  arm  of  his  garrulous  relative,  his 
gaze  alternately  on  the  sloppy  way  and  upon  a 
silent  figure  whose  cloak  and  hat  gave  to  a  re- 
markable stature  the  effect  of  the  colossal. 

It  was  this  last  member  of  the  group  that  drew 
closest  attention.  His  very  manner  of  listening 
seemed  to  Roger  more  vital  than  the  babble  or  the 
earnestness  of  his  companions.  Something  in  his 
appearance  gave  to  the  lad  the  thrill  that  pricks 
the  young  in  the  presence  of  power. 

"Discretion  were  no  cowardice,"  his  Grace  was 
saying.  "Pirates  and  Spaniards  may  wait  on  a 
more  favorable " 

The  foremost  torch  bearer  came  suddenly  in 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  9 

Roger's  path  and  leaped  at  him,  striking  with  the 
viciousness  of  sudden  fright.  The  glare  in  their 
eyes  had  helped  to  conceal  one  approaching  from 
the  direction  of  the  shore,  and  the  echoes  multi- 
plying their  own  footsteps  had  covered  those  of 
another.  Roger  was  unaware  how  wholly  he  had 
been  hidden.  The  assault  took  him  smartly  by 
surprise.  His  left  arm  warded  the  blow  but  it 
came  shrewdly  upon  the  flesh  of  his  shoulder. 
On  the  instant  the  sting  of  it  shot  home  the  boy's 
response.  The  retainer  dropped  limply  upon  the 
stones,  his  torch  plunged  extinguished  in  a  miry 
pool. 

The  party  closed  upon  the  lad  angrily. 

'Tis  a  spy !  A  vile  rogue  set  on  to  spy  about 
the  town, "  announced  blackly  the  prater  so  lately 
silenced.  "A  dozen  may  be  hid  within  his  call. 
Have  a  caution,  your  Grace !  Be  not  rash,  Cap- 
tain  " 

"'Rash'  indeed,  Sir  'Ninny'!  Five  to  one  is 
brave  odds!"  Roger  had  wheeled  at  the  warning. 
The  flare  showed  him  well  grown,  well  built,  and 
of  a  carriage  fearless  and  pleasing. 

Rage  dimmed  the  eyes  of  his  accuser. 

"  Hold  thy  tongue,  thou  river-spawn !  What 
dost  thou  here?" 

"What  thou  dost  not — mind  my  own  affairs!" 
the  lad  retorted. 

The  loud  voice  drew  nearer,  sneering. 

"  'Tis  only  mermen  and  wharf  rats  have  affairs 
in  the  water !" 

"And  'tis  more  the  part  of  spies  and  wharf  rats 
to  set  upon  one  unarmed,  with  cudgels!"  Roger 


io  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

finished  hotly.  His  anger,  less  boisterous  than 
the  suspicions  it  flung  off,  was  none  the  less  vivid. 
Something  in  the  challenge  of  his  bearing  struck 
pleasingly  upon  the  other's  humour. 

"Lord  love  us!"  he  interjected  delightedly. 
"  'Tis  a  fine  fellow.  Well  met !  Up  Cadgson — 
more  light " 

The  man  of  the  imposing  figure  had  stood  so  as 
to  cut  off  retreat  by  a  shoreward  plunging  alley. 

"More  light,  but  not  for  sport,  Sir  John,"  he 
interposed.  "  'Tis  time  I  were  away — and  his 
Grace  and  I  lend  not  our  weapons  for  thy  non- 
sense."  He  moved  briskly  forward  and  the  glare 
of  the  remaining  torch  struck  squarely  into  the 
face  beneath  the  wide  hat. 

"Captain  Phips!"  Roger  turned  unguarded, 
with  a  quick  gesture  as  if  he  would  have  uncovered, 
gladness  and  confidence  in  the  motion,  hardly 
tinged  by  the  remembrance  of  his  wet  and  hatless 
plight. 

The  other  torch-bearer  had  crept  up  from  be- 
hind, a  vengeful  glitter  in  his  half -closed  eyes. 
He  had  somewhat  precipitately  moved  backward 
in  the  earliest  stage  of  the  discussion  and  was 
bent  upon  re-establishing  his  credit.  In  the 
moment  of  his .  triumph  the  stick  was  wrenched 
from  his  hands  and  flung  violently  over  his  head, 
his  upraised  arm  seized,  and  his  thick  bulk  drawn 
swiftly  forward. 

The  Captain  searched  Roger's  face  in  the  clearer 
light. 

"Young  Verring!"  he  exclaimed,  astonishment 
in  the  recognition.  Without  another  word  he 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  n 

set  his  face  toward  the  river  and  whistled,  a  long, 
straight  signal,  individual  and  peremptory.  Some- 
where beyond  the  closest  tangle  of  ships  a  light 
lifted  and  dropped  in  answer,  moving  apparently 
like  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  without  guidance  save  for 
its  own  fantastic  whim. 

" I  know  the  lad;  he  will  go  with  me.  We  need 
wait  no  longer. "  Captain  Phips  looked  at  the 
graver  of  his  two  companions. 

The  Duke  of  Albemarle  nodded.  He  had 
watched  the  boy  with  suspicion  no  less  ready  than 
his  cousin's.  Now  he  turned  away  and  joined 
himself  to  the  Captain  for  a  final  colloquy  as  they 
descended  to  the  wharf.  The  valiant  aggressor 
in  the  brief  battle  had  been  set  upright  upon  his 
feet  and  held  his  relighted  torch  but  drunkenly 
as  he  essayed  to  follow. 

Sir  John  had  melted  again  to  his  jovial  mood, 
and  balanced  judiciously  upon  the  slippery  path 
as  he  and  Roger  fell  in  before  the  subdued  Cadgson. 

"Not  even  a  wig  to  keep  the  night  air  from  thy 
hot  head?"  he  remonstrated  cheerfully.  "Art 
over  young  to  wander  at  this  hour  with  no  better 
weapon  than  a  saucy  tongue !  'Spy'  and  'wharf- 
rat'!"  He  laughed.  "  'Twas  fair  exchange!  But 
'Sir  Ninny' — I  like  not  'Sir  Ninny'.  Were't 
not  for  our  good  William  who  meaneth  to  carry 
thee  hence " 

"Nay,  Sir  John,"  the  lad  put  in  frankly,  "I 
withdraw  the  word. "  His  mind  came  back 
suddenly  under  the  sway  of  that  law  whose  ob- 
servance had  been  to  him  all  his  life  both  good- 
breeding  and  religion — reverence  for  those  of 


12  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

greater  age.  "I  pray  you  pardon  it,"  he  said, 
and  though  answering  laughter  was  in  his  eyes,  his 
voice  rang  with  a  deprecation  honest  as  his  wrath. 

Sir  John  clapped  a  gloved  hand  powerfully  upon 
the  boy's  arm  and  let  it  rest  there,  both  for  friend- 
liness and  the  support  thus  secured,  until  the  fare- 
wells were  said. 

"We  shall  meet  again,  lad."  They  had  passed 
the  lumber  pile  and  could  see  the  Captain's  boat 
waiting  below  the  stairs.  "An'  ever  thou  wouldst 
find  a  friend  in  London,  remember  Sir  John 
Winchcombe. " 

"  In  with  you,  Roger.  " 

The  command  of  Captain  Phips  gave  no  oppor- 
tunity for  reluctance  had  any  existed  in  the  lad's 
mind. 

"Good  luck!  Good  fishing!"  called  back  the 
voluble  cousin  of  his  Grace,  as  the  four  landsmen 
moved  off,  the  resuscitated  torch-bearer  wading 
dizzily  after  his  comrade.  "Remember  'hope 
deferred' — how  goeth  the  rhyme?  'Tis  very 
deadly,  Captain — hope — grown — stale  ! "  So  plain 
was  every  sound  in  the  murk,  Roger  could  hear 
the  plash  and  sucking  of  the  mud  beneath  the 
departing  tread,  and  the  wide  boot  tops  flapping 
one  upon  another.  The  voice  of  Sir  John  grew 
louder  as  the  distance  increased. 

"Come  quickly  home,  good  William ! 

'  Stay  not  to  woo  the  sirens  of  the  isles, 
Stay  not '  " 

But  the  melody  was  quenched  in  its  first  out- 
pouring, and  the  jerked  snatches  that  came  river- 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  13 

ward  as  the  boat  made  its  way  past  the  beetling 
hull  of  the  Pelloquin  seemed  more  like  growls  than 
song. 


CHAPTER  II 

BOUND    FOR    STRANGE    SEAS 

THE  cabin  of  the  Araby  Rose  showed  an  ex- 
travagant illumination.  Roger  had  looked 
up  wondering  as  he  crossed  the  threshold. 
On  each  of  the  four  walls  hung  a  lantern,  the  one 
above  the  door  disclosing  its  light  not  through 
horn  but  from  a  diamond-shaped  window  of  glass. 

The  shine  of  it  revealed  the  polished  wood  of 
the  fittings  and  the  brass  knobs  upon  locker  and 
cupboard.  More  than  all,  it  revealed  the  face  of 
Captain  Phips. 

Roger's  gaze  had  dwelt  but  swiftly  on  the  place ; 
it  had  stayed  itself  upon  the  Captain,  a  happy 
enthusiasm  in  its  clear  regard. 

"So  'twas  to  have  your  foot  on  English  soil! 
Was't  worth  the  wetting?"  The  shrewd  eyes  of 
which  the  lad  had  been  plainly  conscious  through- 
out the  seeming  indirection  of  their  discourse 
were  fixed  suddenly  upon  his  face.  "When  sails 
the  Hopewell?" 

"To-morrow."  Roger  fell  silent.  The  Captain 
drew  upon  his  long  pipe,  apparently  absorbed  in 
the  gentle  bubbling  within  its  bowl. 

"I  could  not  go  back  to  Boston — and  never 
once  ashore  in  England!"  The  lad's  utterance 
lost  for  a  moment  the  respectful  restraint  of  his 
earlier  words. 

"And  why  not?"     Captain  Phips  settled  him- 

14 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  15 

self  more  comfortably  in  his  great  chair,  the  only 
chair  on  the  Araby  Rose,  and  blew  into  the  air  a 
monstrous  cloud.  The  look  with  which  he  had 
begun  the  conference,  a  look  that  corresponded 
with  a  certain  keenness  of  thrust  in  his  questions, 
had  gone,  dissolved  in  attention  less  distrustful, 
equally  discerning. 

"  'Tis  the  land  of  my  ancestors — my  grand- 
father's home.  "  The  lad  spoke  with  a  warmth,  a 
sentiment,  almost  passionate.  A  flush  followed 
the  outburst,  and  he  made  swift  retreat  into  the 
habit  of  reserve  that  was  his  Puritan  heritage. 
"None  but  a  slave  would  submit  so  far,"  he  went 
on  resolutely.  "I  was  the  only  one  forbid  the 
shore. " 

"  'Tis  your  father's  own  ship,  the  Hopewell?" 
The  Captain  pushed  his  tankard  across  the  table. 
"Drink,  lad.  It  were  worse  folly  to  add  an  ague 
to  your  disobedience.  Drink.  I  should  have 
thought  your  captain  like  to  favour  his  owner's 
son. " 

"I  asked  no  favour." 

The  glow  that  had  warmed  Roger's  eyes  and 
lighted  his  face  vanished  suddenly  like  the  electric 
play  upon  a  summer  sky.  He  drank  as  he  was 
bidden,  suppressing  a  shiver  as  the  heat  of  the 
spirit  grappled  with  the  chill  of  his  body. 

"Was  it  your  father's  will  you  be  set  to  the 
common  tasks?"  Captain  Phips  leaned  forward, 
his  pipe  suspended  in  his  hand. 

"Not  all,  not  save  as  the  training  seemed  need- 
ful for  the  better  understanding  of  a  ship.  But  I 
am  a  man.  I  can  do  a  man's  work. "  There  was 


16  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

a  moment's  pause.  "  'Twas  a  punishment,  my 
voyage,"  he  went  on  hurriedly. 

"  Punishment  for  what  ? "  The  Captain  knocked 
his  pipe  upon  the  table's  edge  and  refilled  it  care- 
fully, but  Roger  knew  the  shrewd  eyes  still  studied 
him.  A  half-defiant  hardness  in  his  tone  dis- 
appeared as  he  continued,  and  he  spoke  with 
neither  bravado  nor  weak  shame. 

"It  was  a  brawl.  I  angered  a  sailor  at  the 
dock.  When  he  would  have  kicked  me  I  knocked 
him  down.  His  fellows  set  upon  me.  My  father 
had  trouble  to  keep  me  from  the  stocks. " 

The  Captain  pursed  his  lips  softly.  It  would 
have  been  hard  to  say  whether  there  was  repro- 
bation or  sympathy  in  the  gesture. 

"  Brawls  are  bad  things,  "  he  commented  gravely. 
"What  was  the  man's  offence?"  He  looked  up, 
drumming  with  one  strong  finger  on  the  resonant 
wood. 

The  loutish  youth  who  had  earlier  carried  off 
the  heavy  cloak  shuffled  sleepily  in  view. 

"  Did  you  call,  Sir  ? "  he  asked  sullenly. 

"No.  Call?  No,"  answered  the  Captain 
shortly.  "An1  thou  come  with  as  good  will, 
Jacob  Munch,  when  I  do  call  as  when  I  don't, 
thou'lt  make  vast  improvement. " 

Behind  his  back  the  youth  scowled  again  and 
slunk  a  little  forth.  Roger  was  conscious  that 
the  shuffling  footsteps  halted  before  they  were 
withdrawn  out  of  earshot  of  the  cabin. 

The  Captain's  voice  had  sharpened  at  the  sight 
of  the  sullen  apparition  and  he  spoke  almost 
harshly. 


"Wast  rash  and  ungentle,  boy.  What  had  the 
man  done?" 

"Kicked  a  lamb  but  newly  born.  It  staggered 
on  the  plank,  ('twas  on  a  Hingham  pinnace) 
and  when  it  cried — crushed  in  its  ribs — and 

mimicked  the  cry. 1  could  not  bear  it. "  The 

lad's  eyes  were  fiercely  alight,  contradicting  the 
respectful  modulation  of  his  speech.  He  drew 
himself  more  erect  as  he  finished. 

"  'Twas  a  right  blow — a  brute  he  is  would 
harm  a  lamb.  Many's  the  one  I've  carried  through 
Pemaquid  storms. "  The  Captain  pulled  remi- 
niscently  at  his  pipe,  his  look  searching  the  lad's 
face.  But  there  be  good  people, "  he  went  on, 
smiling  with  tightened  lips,  "who  hold  it  an  im- 
piety to  waste  pity  on  the  beasts  that  perish.  Is't 
thy  father's  belief?" 

Roger  hesitated. 

"My  father  would  not  be  cruel,"  he  replied 
evasively. 

"And  'twas  by  his  commands  thou  wast  forbid 
the  shore?" 

"Nay — 'twas  not  so,"  The  lad  answered  with 
a  mounting  anger.  ' '  I  myself  heard  him  desire 
of  Captain  Gillani  that  he  show  me  somewhat  of 
London. " 

"Gillam!"  A  curious  gleam  crossed  the  Cap- 
tain's expression.  Amazement  showed  in  his 
exclamation.  "Thou  wert  to  see  the  sights  of  the 
town  with  Raving  Rufus  !" 

"He  beareth  himself  discreetly  in  Boston. 
None  would  so  abhor  the  man  as  my  father  if " 

" '  If  !       If  Nicolas  Verring  knew  his  man  he'd 


i8  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

sooner  have  sent  thee  with  the  Devil  alone  ! I'll 

warrant  the  rascal  took  not  kindly  to  thy  com- 
pany on  his  ship!"  The  pipe  had  been  pushed 
upon  one  side,  the  tankard  rested  unfilled.  There 
was  a  tenseness  about  the  Captain's  mouth,  a 
new  concentration  in  his  regard. 

"  He  hated  me,  "  the  lad  answered  simply. 

"  'Twas  a  harsh  discipline,  the  HopewelVs?  " 

Roger  gave  back  the  penetrating  gaze  with  a 
sudden  confidence. 

"  'Twas  worse  than  that,"  he  broke  forth,  then 
fell  sharply  silent  as  though  he  had  spoken  un- 
warily. 

"  How  many  souls  had  she  aboard  ? " 

4 ' Fifty- three — when  we  sailed." 

"And  how  many  lost  you  on  the  voyage ? " 

"Eleven." 

"Some  of  these  died  in  the  hold?" 

"Aye,  sir."     The  lad  shuddered. 

Over  their  heads  the  steps  of  the  watch  went 
to  and  fro.  Within,  silence  fell  upon  both. 
Roger's  gaze  still  held  to  the  imposing  figure 
before  him,  and  his  lips  essayed  to  speak,  but 
found  the  beginning  difficult.  To  him,  as  to  all 
the  youth  of  Boston,  Captain  Phips  was  a  hero. 
To  stand  well  in  the  eyes  of  one's  hero  is  a  hard 
thing  to  forego.  But  his  waiting  lasted  no  more 
than  a  full  breath. 

"That  was  not  my  sole  offence,"  he  said  ab- 
ruptly. "I  had  been  often  troublesome.  My 
tongue " 

"Is  too  quick — and  thy  hand  not  over  slow  to 
follow?"  The  Captain's  face  broadened  with 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  19 

sudden  laughter  that  overran  it.  "Art  not  the 
only  one,  my  boy  !  And  art  young  yet.  How  old 
may'st  thou  be?" 

"Sixteen — within  the  month." 

"So  old!"  The  Captain  smiled  still,  with 
genial  irony. 

"  'Tis  a  man's  age,  Captain  Phips,  "  the  lad  pro- 
tested. "Mr.  Mather  had  his  degree  from  the 
college  and  was  preaching  at  seventeen. " 

"And  what  would  a  runaway  in  London — even 

though  a  man  grown "  The  pause  was  filled 

with  the  smile,  quizzical  and  friendly. 

"Not  a  runaway.  I  am  going  back."  Roger 
had  risen. 

"Thou  art!"  There  was  loud  incredulity  in 
the  repetition.  The  steps  of  the  watch  came  to  a 
halt,  then  resumed  their  march.  "Going  back  to 
Raving  Rufus  !  Why,  lad,  he'll  kill  thee ;  kill  and 
quarter  thee. " 

"  He  may  not  discover  my  absence.  If  I  desert — 
There's  no  other  way,  Sir.  I  must  tell  my  own 
story  in  Boston." 

"Art  not  afraid  for  thy  life?" 

"  'Tis  not  fear,  I  think — but  I  have  taken  'count 
of  the  danger.  There 'd  be  none  to  hinder  were  it 
smallpox — or  something  quicker.  If  it  happen  I 
do  not  reach  home "  He  looked  up  impetu- 
ously— "when  you  come  again  to  New  England 
would  you — if  you  could  give  some  assurance  to 
my  mother — and  my  father  as  well — that  I 
had  not  disgraced  them — that  is — if  you 
believe  me?" 

There  was  no  bathos  in  the  appeal.     He  spoke 


20  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

soberly  and  with  a  composure  too  earnest  to  admit 
a  doubt  of  its  reality. 

Captain  Phips  rose  suddenly  from  his  chair, 
barring  the  way. 

"Damn  thee,  lad,"  he  said  furiously.  "Thou 
shalt  tell  thy  own  tale  and  I'll  better  it.  Nay — 
no  protest — no  words,  boy.  Thou'rt  on  the  Araby 
Rose  and  on  the  Araby  Rose  thou'lt  stay  ! " 

The  night  was  already  far  spent.  As  the  web 
of  masts  and  spars  grew  clear  against  the  first 
redness  of  the  dawn,  three  ships  floated  from  their 
moorings  and  entered  the  current  of  the  Thames. 
The  Pelloquin  led.  In  a  locker  of  her  master's 
cabin  reposed  a  sealed  packet  addressed  in  the 
plain  unflourished  script  of  Captain  Phips: 

NICOLAS  VERRING,  ESQ., 
Boston  in 

New  England. 

To  be  delivered  unto  his  own  person  by 
the  hand  of  Captain  Stukely. 

Before  they  reached  the  mouth  of  the  river  the 
Araby  Rose  had  passed  the  merchant  vessel,  the 
trumpets  hailing  joyously  across  the  tide  at  flood. 

Roger,  newly  arrayed  in  the  clothing  of  the 
loutish  Jacob,  stood  just  forward  of  the  upreared 
poop  and  waited  upon  the  Captain's  word.  His 
mind  had  dwelt  in  momentary  amaze  upon  the 
unfriendliness  of  his  old  schoolfellow  and  he  would 
have  refused  the  forced  loan  had  his  captor  been 
less  peremptory. 

"Art  a  prisoner,   lad,    and   fairly   taken! "the 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  21 

Captain  had  laughed  in  the  confidence  of  their 
final  converse.  It  was  then  that  Roger  had 
questioned  him  abruptly,  spurred  by  a  quick 
recollection. 

"Know  you,  Sir,  one  Gregory  Bellingham ? " 

The  Captain  had  frowned. 

"Where  hast  thou  met  with  Gregory  Belling- 
ham?" he  had  asked  sharply. 

Roger  had  recounted  quickly  what  he  had  over- 
heard, omitting  nothing  that  gave  light  upon  the 
mission  of  the  Seaflower,  but  adding  no  interpreta- 
tion of  his  own. 

"Rascals  all!"  the  Captain  had  commented. 
"  'Tis  a  name  oft  spoken  in  the  Court  of  James — 
Gregory  Bellingham.  A  dissolute  set — his  fellows, 
but  gentlemen  and  with  long  purses.  The  man  is 
said  to  be  well  favoured.  Didst  see  him  ? " 

"  'Twas  dark;  he  kept  well  in  the  shadow," 
Roger  had  replied. 

"A  subtle  knave!  Am  told  'tis  matter  of  con- 
jecture whence  come  his  revenues.  There  was 
much  gossip  of  sudden  deaths  that  cut  off  his  sup- 
plies and  brought  no  legacies.  'Twas  looked  for 
he  should  be  bankrupt  long  ere  this.  Smallpox 
and  scurvy,  lad,  there's  money  behind  this  coward's 
plotting,  be  sure  of  that!"  Captain  Phips  had 
fallen  to  musing,  finishing  more  to  himself  than 
to  Roger :  ' '  Would  I  could  overhaul  the  Seaflower. ' ' 
The  wish  remained  suspended,  incomplete. 

"And  could  we  not?"  The  lad  had  drawn 
nearer  eagerly. 

"Nay,  Roger,  'tis  an  English  ship — and  were 
we  to  end  the  scum,  'tis  not  like  their  master  would 


22  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

give  over  his  attempt,  and  him  no  man  can  touch — 
he  hath  the  King's  ear.  Hearken  and  keep  thy 
counsel,  lad — we  go  upon  errands  not  our  own. 
But  let  none  be  wiser  for  aught  thou'st  overheard 
or  what  I  tell  thee  now. " 

Roger  had  waited  with  arrested  breath  in  the 
pause  that  had  followed. 

"We  seek  a  Spanish  treasure  sunken  these 
fifty  years. "  The  Captain's  voice  had  dropped  to 
the  level  baffling  to  an  eavesdropper.  "She  lieth 
somewhere  among  the  reefs  of  the  West  Indies. 
'Tis  the  same  treasure  I  sought  in  the  King's  ship 
late  returned.  Now  I  go  for  the  Duke — whom 
you  saw — and  his  friends,  on  information  gained 
too  late  for  that  voyage,  of  an  old  man  at  Port  de  la 
Plata. " 

The  lad's  heart  bounded  beneath  the  homespun 
of  Jacob  Munch,  recalling  the  words. 

Others  let  drop  by  the  incautious  Sir  John  came 
luminously  back. 

"Good  luck  to  your  fishing!"  "The  prize  is 
there "  "We're  rich  already!" 

The  very  wind  in  the  cordage  sang  of  it.  A 
glorious  venture  !  And  Captain  Phips  ! 

The  Captain  had  appeared  and  the  redness  had 
grown  yellow  save  for  a  crimson  streak  before  the 
prow.  The  commander  of  the  Rose  was  as  fresh, 
as  ruddy  of  face  and  vigorous,  as  one  new-risen 
from  slumber.  To  the  familiarity  of  the  night 
just  past  Roger  could  not  expect  to  return,  but  his 
eyes  clung  to  the  splendid  figure  with  the  loyal 
satisfaction  of  homage. 

The  mate  saw  the  warmth  in  the  lad's  look  and 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  23 

cast  a  contemplative  eye  upon  the  goodly  limbs 
within  the  borrowed  raiment. 

"Sure  the  clothes  of  Jacob  Munch  will  be  re- 
fusin'  to  return  to  their  owner !  'Tis  the  hand- 
some face  and  figger  of  yon  lad  sets  'em  off!"  he 
remarked  blithely  in  the  Captain's  ear. 

Jacob  Munch  heard.  His  furtive  gaze  narrowed 
as  he  slouched  aft  to  the  Captain's  cabin. 

Upon  the  vague  horizon  line  the  glass  showed  a 
lurking  speck  upon  whose  track  they  seemed  to 
follow — the  Seaflower,  set  already  far  upon  her 
way. 

Roger  had  no  glass,  and  he  had  not  marked  the 
glance  of  Jacob  Munch.  The  glamour  of  the 
morning  was  upon  his  sight. 

Here  was  his  wish  fulfilled — unless  the  whole 
were  dreaming !  The  Hopewell  dwindling  behind 
them  was  well-nigh  forgotten,  its  horrors  already 
old ;  the  sails  of  the  Pelloquin  shone  wondrously  in 
the  early  light,  and  the  Araby  Rose,  mounting 
upon  the  swell,  outsped  them  both,  bound  joy- 
fully for  strange  seas  and  the  sunken  galleon  of 
Spain. 


CHAPTER  III 

"  Where  below  another  sky 
Parrot  islands  anchored  Jie." 

IN  the  still  dawn  of  tropical  waters  the  Araby 
Rose  floated  black  against  the  softly  un- 
folding light.  Black,  too,  against  the  east, 
an  island  on  either  hand  lifted  its  tuft  of  plumy 
vegetation  and  framed  the  waste.  Between  the 
ship  and  that  infinitely  far  horizon  whence  she  had 
come  stretched  a  limitless  ocean. 

While  the  forecastle  still  slept  Roger  had  come 
forth  under  the  stars  and  mounted  into  the  rigging, 
where  the  motion  was  no  more  than  the  swaying 
of  a  cradle,  so  gently  the  Rose  slipped  through  the 
scarce-stirred  surface  of  the  sea. 

A  quiet  full  of  lonely  danger  brooded  upon  the 
place.  Not  the  nightmare  that  had  threatened 
the  men  of  Columbus,  not  the  fear  lest  their  bark 
come  suddenly  to  the  edge  of  the  world  and  so 
plunge  off  into  night  and  space,  but  the  danger  of 
robbery  and  murder,  of  ghastly  deaths  here  in 
this  delusive  peace  so  often  made  a  desolation  of 
slaughter  and  rapine. 

On  what  island  might  not  be  hid  the  fastness  of 
a  buccaneer;  from  behind  what  rich  foliage  of 
palm  and  vine  might  not  dart  the  hawk-like  prow 
of  a  L'Ollonois  or  a  Morgan?  These  were  the 
rendezvous  of  the  pirate  kings,  the  seas  of  the 
West  Indies.  Here  they  came  to  count  their 
gains,  recruit  their  ranks,  and  find  the  consorts  of 

24 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  25 

their  hellish  deeds.  The  Pacific  had  drawn  off 
vast  numbers,  wild  with  the  greed  of  savage  con- 
quest, but  yet  the  breed  multiplied  in  the  old 
hunting  ground,  though  merchants  had  grown 
wary  and  travellers  that  cared  little  for  adventure 
and  set  high  value  on  their  lives  preferred  the  hard- 
ships of  the  longer  passage  to  the  perils  of  the  Isles. 

In  the  sky  the  faint  blue  deepened  and  bright- 
ened, revealing  distance  beyond  distance,  alluring 
the  eye  to  ever  loftier  exploration.  Roger's  gaze 
lost  itself  in  the  ether,  came  back  to  rest  in  the 
clear  waters  below,  and  once  more  searched  the 
horizon,  disappointed  when  the  ocean  showed 
still  empty  save  for  a  shadow  lying  low  to  the 
southwest. 

Then  the  rising  sun  blazed  in  his  face,  sending 
across  the  dim  expanse  a  blinding  good-morrow. 
As  it  moved  upward  from  the  water's  rim  leaving 
its  ensanguined  trail  upon  the  sea,  it  appeared 
not  so  much  the  sun  known  and  welcomed  in  other 
days  as  a  strange  luminary  bursting  upon  a  uni- 
verse new  found. 

Upon  the  Rose  the  business  of  the'  day  was 
rapidly  begun,  the  noisy  activity  on  her  decks 
opposing  itself  sharply  to  the  silent  monotony  on 
every  side.  The  shadow  to  the  southward  dark- 
ened as  they  approached;  a  strong  irregular  line 
grew  plain  against  the  light.  Toward  it  the 
ship's  company  strained  an  eager  watch. 

From  the  feebly  distended  sails  and  the  warping 
deck  there  glowed  upon  them  a  remorseless  heat. 
The  skin  baked  upon  their  parching  bodies,  and 
the  salt  of  perspiration  was  streaked  dry  and  white 


26  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

upon  bare  backs.  But  the  ship  fared  steadily 
forward  through  the  moveless  sea,  and,  at  last, 
between  the  shimmer  above  and  the  dazzle  below, 
appeared  the  solid  green  of  mountains. 

As  they  drew  near,  the  Araby  Rose  wore  round 
and  tacked  lazily  westward  along  the  uneven  shore. 
Far  inland  a  lofty  range  stretched  parallel  with  their 
going,  uplifting  itself,  a  marvel  of  blue  changes, 
to  the  blue-tinged  sky — indigo  on  the  lower  slopes ; 
purple,  violet,  azure,  on  the  peaks  above.  And 
from  this  distant  range  long  ridges  reached  out 
toward  the  sea,  spread  like  the  legs  of  some  vast 
centipede  crawling  heavily  across  the  world. 

From  the  soft  blur  of  the  far  heights  and  pale 
blue  sky  to  the  near  green  of  slopes  that  rounded 
to  the  sea,  solitude  and  mystery  possessed  the 
land.  Upon  the  hills,  a  wonderful,  thick  growth 
of  trees  hid  shore  and  rocks  even  to  the  ripples  of 
the  tide.  One  after  another  appeared  deserted 
valleys,  now  narrow,  deep  cleft  between  the  mighty 
spurs;  now  broad,  widened  into  savannas,  where 
the  dense  foliage  of  the  heights  gave  way  to  ranks 
of  cocoa  palms,  standing  separate  and  stork-like, 
their  plumage  ruffling  in  airs  unfelt  below. 

Birds  flashed  from  the  green  gloom  of  the  forest 
and  wavered  above  the  Rose.  Their  calls,  quaint 
and  unfamiliar,  broke  gratefully  on  the  silence. 
Their  numbers  increased  as  the  ship  ran  in  closer  to 
a  tree-screened  bay,  their  shadows  circling  upon 
the  deck,  while  the  Captain  studied  with  keen 
eyes  the  wild  succession  of  mountain  top  and  glade. 
The  roar  of  tumbling  water  came  cool  upon  the 
beating  air,  and  died,  a  lost  mirage  of  sound,  as 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  27 

the  Araby  Rose  sheered  off  and  set  her  sails  once 
more  to  catch  the  elusive  breeze. 

Still  they  moved  idly  westward  upon  the  placid 
sea,  the  airs  that  were  abroad  coming  in  soft  and 
vanishing  puffs.  Nor  did  the  wind  rise  as  the  rain 
descended,  a  straight  and  furious  shower  upon  the 
streaming  planks.  When  the  flood  ceased,  with- 
out warning  of  slackening  drops,  they  were  abreast 
a  wooded  height.  At  the  water's  edge  gleamed 
a  narrow  line  that  might  be  sand ;  from  it  the  cliff 
rose,  abrupt  and  fortress-like,  an  isolated  headland 
in  the  undulating  coast.  Looking  up  to  find  the 
battlements,  the  lad  wondered  how  the  mantle  of 
heavy  trees  could  cling  upon  the  steep  escarpment. 
A  scarlet-coated  guard  of  sentinel  flamingoes  at 
its  foot  gave  loud-voiced  warning  of  the  approach. 
A  laughing  gull  answered  with  a  derisive  scream, 
dipping  to  rest  his  wings  upon  the  emerald  sea. 

The  Rose  had  veered  to  the  left,  following  the 
outline  of  the  promontory;  the  green  crag  ended 
suddenly  and  the  ship  came,  all  in  an  instant's 
gliding  advance,  upon  a  glimpse  of  land-locked 
water.  The  sails  moved  upon  her  spars,  and  her 
bow,  turning  slowly  about,  pointed  toward  the 
dark,  contracted  channel  into  which  the  tide 
rippled  softly.  Puzzled  looks  went  from  the  nar- 
row opening  to  the  Captain's  face.  Heads  wagged 
in  unspoken  comment.  But  between  the  walls 
of  green  towering  on  either  side,  the  Rose  took  her 
course  with  stately  ease,  clearing  the  gateway  of 
an  unsuspected  bay,  and  swerving  without  haste 
or  jar  to  safe  mooring  under  the  beetling  cliff. 

The  pool  where  she  floated  was  basined  like  a 


28  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

mountain  lake;  beyond,  the  waters  shallowed  to  a 
wide  lagoon.  Rough  rejoicing  woke  upon  her 
decks;  surprise  subdued  it  to  a  busy  alertness  of 
the  sense. 

As  the  anchor  dropped,  great  crabs  scuttled, 
with  a  noise  like  the  clatter  of  hoofs,  across  the 
shaly  beach,  rustling  out  of  sight  with  startled 
speed.  High  above,  in  the  dusk  of  the  leaves,  a 
gaudy  parrot  swung  dizzily.  His  shrill  greeting 
gave  to  the  silent  harbour  a  strongers  pell  of  calm, 
his  excitement,  resentful  and  amazed,  making  the 
more  profound  its  deep  security. 

Here  a  ship  might  lie  hid  from  without  until  the 
trees,  grown  old  and  rotted  under  their  firm,  en- 
folding bark,  crashed  from  their  citadel  into  the 
depths  below.  For  the  imposing  headland  over- 
topped the  tapered  height  of  masts,  and  from  its 
inner  side  was  scooped  a  great  recess,  so  cleanly 
curved  it  bent  like  a  protecting  arm  behind  its 
deceptive  front  of  mountainous  bulwark  impinging 
on  the  sea. 

The  water  was  all  a-glitter  with  the  sun  that 
glinted  gaily  to  the  very  entrance  of  caverns  under 
the  impending  rocks,  caverns  from  whose  darkness 
a  cold  breath  came  like  cellar  damps  upon  the 
quivering  heat.  Great  roots  sprawled  from  the 
ledges  above  and  twisted  across  the  faces  of  the 
caves  a  latticed  screen.  Tall  shrubs  leaned  out 
upon  the  rugged  arches,  clinging  with  ropy  and 
tenacious  hold  to  unseen  crevices. 

As  the  hours  grew  late,  clouds  closed  in  again 
across  the  blue.  The  tops  of  the  distant  moun- 
tains, barely  visible  from  the  hidden  Rose,  disap- 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  29 

peared  in  the  watery  mist.  A  chill  came  out  of  the 
forest,  pleasant  at  first  after  the  day's  heat,  but 
growing  damp  and  clammy  with  coming  night. 
Roger,  lingering  upon  the  poop,  saw  the  world  ex- 
tinguished suddenly,  and  put  out  his  hand  as  if  the 
blackness  might  be  tangible. 

In  the  forecastle  the  crew  sang  uproariously. 
They  were  a  crew  of  many  nations  but  of  a  single 
expression,  savage  and  credulous. 

Fangs,  called  also  the  Tusker  and  the  Mole, 
harangued  them  in  the  intervals  of  song.  The 
voyage  had  been  long  enough  to  fill  the  ears  of  all, 
not  only  with  what  the  wise  Fangs  knew  but  with 
more  that  he  imagined,  long  enough  to  weary  the 
men  and  whet  their  appetites  for  tales  of  mad  ad- 
venture. The  land  was  welcome.  Its  shade 
called  to  them  after  the  burning  days;  its  wildness 
stirred  the  ferocity  of  their  blood  with  vague  hope 
of  change.  Ignorant  and  dull  of  fancy,  they  had 
had  but  blind  scent  of  their  quarry  till  Fangs  had 
shown  the  way. 

"  'Twas  'ereabouts  'e  came  when  King  James 
fitted 'im  out,  "  he  vouchsafed  arrogantly.  "  Twas 
treasure  'e  was  after  then,  and  'tis  treasure  'e's 
after  now.  "  He  swore  unctuously  and  communed 
with  himself  in  contemptuous  words.  "Eighteen 
guns  'e  had  an'  ninety-five  men — and  e'  went  back! " 
The  oracle  paused,  drawing  his  lips  away  from  two 
protruding  teeth  in  a  sneer  not  without  malice. 

"He  had  to  go  back,"  answered  Gedge,  who 
shared  with  Fangs  a  half-emptied  flagon.  He,  too, 
garnished  his  speech  with  oaths  but  its  flavor 
lacked  a  virulence  of  blasphemy  wherein  his  mate's 


30  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

excelled.  "The  King  ain't  sendin'  ships  to  rot  in 
these  here  bays.  He  couldn't  stay  away  cruisin' 
forever,  could  he?" 

"Wy  not?"  demanded  the  other,  his  little  eyes 
cunningly  awatch. 

"  'Cause  he  ain't  no  sech  pillgarlic,"  answered  the 
Massachusetts  man;  but  he  drank  sociably  and 
waited.  Fangs  was  entertaining. 

"  'E's  simple,  Gedge,  that's  w'at  'e  is.  There's 
more  treasure  on  the  sea  than  in  it ! "  Fangs  had 
sunk  his  voice  sibilantly.  "Gold  in  plenty  and 
who  was  to  know — with  the  Spaniards  a  lawful 
prize — but  a  man  might  wait  till  Day  o'  Doom  to 
get  rich  under  Captain  Phips.  'E's  simple,  I  tell 
ye." 

The  yellow  glim  of  forecastle  lanterns  made  a 
bright  space  on  the  forward  deck.  A  warmer  glow 
struck  upward  through  the  skylight  of  the  Cap- 
tain's cabin.  Roger  looked  away  from  the  familiar 
shadows  of  the  Rose  into  the  velvet  dark  that 
pressed  upon  him  with  strange  hypnotic  touch. 
The  ballad  of  Skipper  Joe  rolled  sleepily  from  the 
bows.  Had  any  of  the  crew  once  sailed  these  seas 
in  lawless  freedom?  The  lad  remembered  the 
light  of  recognition  that  had  shown  in  the  eyes  not 
of  Fangs  alone  during  these  last  days  of  cautious 
threading  of  the  island  straits.  Did  the  sight  of 
this  sheltered  bay,  the  caves,  the  uninhabited 
jungle,  bring  back  to  them  fierce  longings  and 
brutal  recollections?  Was  it  for  that  Captain 
Phips  had  set  the  men  to  harder  toil,  exacting  a 
busy  service  which  made  sleep  more  welcome  than 
much  idle  talk? 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  31 

While  he  wondered,  his  face  set  toward  the  in- 
visible waters  and  the  vanished  shore,  a  breath 
stirred  upon  the  wide  lagoon.  Above  the  silent 
thrilling  of  the  waves  a  luminous  whiteness  broke 
in  shifting  gleams.  From  the  bank  an  answering 
whiteness,  of  opening  blossoms,  shone  in  a  dim 
splendour  against  the  blackness  of  the  slope.  Their 
fragrance,  half  guessed  within  the  thousand  per- 
fumes of  the  night,  ambrosial,  aromatic,  pierced 
beyond  the  senses  and  woke  the  soul  to  dreams  of 
mystery  and  conquest  wide  and  resistless  as  the 
inflowing  sea. 

A  forest  wind,  damp  with  unwholesome  dews, 
cold  with  the  chill  of  caverns,  blew  upon  them  as 
they  slept.  Before  its  influence  was  spent  and  the 
morning  laid  hot  hands  on  bodies  sunk  in  its  cool 
relief,  the  tender  was  lowered  from  the  side  of  the 
Araby  Rose  and  loaded  carefully.  Roger's  heart, 
that  had  been  weighted  with  apprehension  lest  he 
be  left  behind,  beat  with  a  cheerful  zeal  as  they 
shoved  off  from  the  ship's  side,  a  ghostly  com- 
pany in  the  uncertain  dusk. 

The  sailors  swayed  dully  with  the  swinging 
blades,  as  if  sleep  held  them  yet.  In  the  stern  the 
Captain  steered  in  silence.  Midway  of  the  lagoon 
a  force  invisible  balked  their  listless  oars.  Strain 
ing  harder  against  an  unseen  enemy,  they  crept, 
scarce  sure  of  motion,  on  the  flood.  The  thwarting 
force  increased;  but  the  small  craft  jerked  and 
heaved  unsteadily  forward,  responding  to  a  stouter 
stroke. 

As  they  drew  out  from  the  heavy  shadow  of  the 
precipice  the  dim  wall  of  trees  upon  the  farther 


32  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

shore  grew  clear.  The  stars,  plain  but  an  instant 
gone,  were  lost  in  day.  Orange  and  crimson  light 
shown  upon  the  sky,  a  green  streak  banded  across 
the  red  and  reflected  in  the  dark  waters  brighter 
than  the  inverted  image  of  the  wood. 

The  colours  paled  swiftly  through  hints  of  rose  and 
amethyst,  blending  all  at  once  into  a  white  and 
indistinguishable  glow.  Near  the  anchorage  of 
the  Rose  a  tide-washed  rim  of  whitened  rock 
divided  the  agate  waters  from  the  land,  but  on  the 
side  which  they  approached  no  land  was  visible. 
Rank  growths  crowded  into  the  waves;  great 
trunks,  decayed  and  broken,  leaned  from  the 
tangle,  slipping  to  their  fall.  Dead  leaves,  and 
blossoms  matted  in  the  slime,  sent  up  a  visible 
reek  from  caves  and  weltering  pools.  Insects 
glinting  with  gold  and  silver  swam  where  the  black 
flood  was  blackest.  Here  and  there  the  earth  had 
sunk  away  from  the  roots  of  some  high-towering 
palm  and  left  it  solitary,  the  eddies  swirling  between 
it  and  the  forsaken  bank. 

Rowing  became  easier,  but  the  force  that  bore 
them  back  dragged  still  upon  their  progress  and 
the  sailors  peered  with  suspicious  eyes  into  the" 
changing  colors  beneath  the  boat.  Suddenly  the 
shore  was  gone.  They  had  passed  the  point  of 
land  that  concealed  the  opening,  and,  where  all 
had  been  a  thick  and  hopeless  jungle,  an  inlet 
showed.  Into  it  they  swung,  pulling  between 
tall,  pillared  groves  till  as  they  went  it  was  clear 
the  inlet  was  a  river.  The  dragging  mystery  was 
explained.  They  had  crossed  a  battleground 
where  the  stream  contended  with  the  flooding  tide. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  33 

The  point  of  land  was  but  a  river  bar,  a  natural 
breakwater  reared  against  the  determined  sea. 
Beyond  it  the  waters  broadened.  Along  the  margin 
mammoth  fern  fronds  waved  above  lush  weeds 
and  reedy  grasses,  some  erect  and  shaken  lightly 
as  the  salty  waves  moved  shoreward  among  the 
thick  grown  stalks,  some  flat  where  the  tide's  turn 
had  set  the  current  racing  for  the  bay. 

Mighty  lianas  clambering  upward  mounted  in 
loose-twisted  coils,  hiding  smooth-columned  trunks 
and  drooping  in  huge  festoons  wherever  their 
swinging  wreaths  found  room.  High  above  a 
labyrinth  of  vine-fettered  stems  and  strange- 
leaved  branches  tipped  with  yellow  flame  of  flower 
sprays,  the  New  England  lad  could  see  the  brave 
mahogany  and  the  monstrous  satinwoods  that 
lifted  their  heads  into  the  very  sheen  and  dazzle  of 
the  sky. 

At  the  edge  of  the  marsh  a  solemn  bird  stood 
motionless.  A  young  pelican,  dull-brown  and 
sombre  in  the  glitter  of  the  day,  swooped  suddenly 
to  dart  its  bill  beneath  the  flood,  taking  swift 
tribute  of  a  life  as  strange  and  various  as  the 
flowers  upon  the  banks.  Roger  looked  down 
among  the  darting  shoals  and  watched  the  changes, 
gay-hued  and  multiform,  beneath  the  oars. 

The  atmosphere  was  full  of  heated  moisture,  a 
suffocating  blanket  through  which  to  draw  the 
breath.  Horny  backs  blistered  in  the  increasing 
glow.  Once  a  sun-dried  island  blocked  their  path, 
a  mound  of  cracking  mud  raised  in  mid-stream 
and  held  by  crawling  mangroves  that  dropped  long 
tentacles  to  find  a  wider  grasp  upon  the  sediment 


34  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

and  reached  tarantula  claws  on  every  side  to  clamp 
and  keep  what  was  already  gained. 

As  the  flow  of  the  stream  overcame  the  tide's 
advance  the  river  narrowed  and  deepened.  Strange 
blossoms  and  fruits  of  poisonous  lustre  spilled 
everywhere  a  powerful  perfume.  Butterflies,  scar- 
let and  green  and  glossy  black,  spotted  with 
tawny  and  gold,  came  into  the  open  space  where 
the  sunlight  invited,  and  fluttered  their  great  soft 
wings,  undulating  in  a  dreamy  trance  beneath  the 
intoxicating  shine. 

Then  the  straight-shafted  trees  spread  the  lofty 
shelter  of  their  tops,  a  high  arcade,  across  a  dusky 
waterway.  The  shower  of  vines  dripping  from  the 
arch  softened  the  blaze  beyond,  and  from  the 
dappled  shade  that  marked  the  tunnel's  mouth 
even  to  the  farthest  palm  that  brushed  the  un- 
shadowed heavens  a  tender  distance  gave  an  un- 
real glamour  to  the.  scene. 

The  birds  that  piped  and  called  in  the  impassable 
thicket  seemed  far  away.  The  parrokeets  that 
flew  high  overhead,  the  monkeys  that  splashed 
the  water  with  hard  green  balls  and  fled  with  gay 
and  chattering  laughter  out  of  sight,  the  stillness 
that  brooded  where  the  place  grew  darkest,  were 
a  phantasy  of  sound  and  silence.  And  when  they 
floated  forth  into  the  garish  light,  their  eyes  were 
dazed  and  smarting,  and  a  million  imps  bestrode 
the  dancing  atoms  of  the  heat. 

The  signs  of  swampiness  were  gone.  The  con- 
fining outline  of  the  stream  grew  more  irregular, 
jutting  here  and  there  in  hilly  capes  and  odd 
peninsulas,  where  the  earth,  crumbling  about  the 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  35 

edge,  showed  red  and  brown,  a  cleaner  mould  than 
the  black  soil  of  the  coast.  Wild  orange  trees 
caught  the  shine  on  glossy  boughs  thrust  outward 
to  the  light;  long,  sparkling  leaves  of  ginger  root 
pushed  like  bent  swords  through  netted  shrub  and 
bush.  Star- apple  and  magnolia,  wild  plum  and 
pepper  plant,  strove  with  a  myriad  growths  un- 
named for  air  and  light,  demanding  space  to  live. 

Roger  kept  the  measure  of  the  dipping  oars  un- 
heeding what  he  did.  The  shore  drew  him  with 
the  power  of  the  unknown.  The  odour  of  the  forest, 
full-breathed  and  lusty  fragrance  of  an  ever-bloom- 
ing land,  was  filled  with  untried  potencies.  Every 
leaf,  spread  like  a  giant  fan,  thrilled  him  with  ex- 
travagant content. 

Vague,  premonitory  whiffs  of  the  ocean  breeze 
had  overtaken  the  plodding  tender.  As  they 
turned  a  bend  that  sent  them  toward  the  moun- 
tain, a  cool  shower  of  air  passed  over  them,  and 
the  feathery  bamboos  laid  spray  to  spray  bowing 
inland  before  the  wind. 

Beyond  a  shaded  cove  made  by  its  own  en- 
croaching on  the  stream,  a  hillock  pushed  its  way 
into  the  current.  Behind  it  the  bank  sloped  up- 
ward, an  abrupt  ascent.  Here  Captain  Phips 
steered  the  boat  to  land,  brushing  great  lily  pads 
that  pressed  him  back  from  shore. 

The  shade  was  grateful,  but  it  held  a  swarm  of 
tiny  flies  that  settled  greedily  on  steaming  bodies. 
The  breeze  had  died  again,  and  a  basking  crocodile, 
wriggling  with  a  lumpish  splash  into  the  water, 
drifted  leisurely  down  stream  and  out  of  sight. 

Roger  watched  the  vigorous  figure  of  the  Captain 


36  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

as  it  hacked  a  passage  through  the  living  barrier 
and  disappeared  behind  the  matted  hedge  of  brake 
and  prickly  shrub;  then  he  looked  upward,  gazing 
into  impending  boughs  so  interlaced  they  seemed 
to  bear  red  bloom  and  lilac,  wide  cups  of  dim  ver- 
milion and  purple  corymbs,  on  the  self -same  stem. 

"Ashore  with  ye!  Quick  there — and  bring  the 
tools. " 

It  was  the  Captain's  shout.  The  men  answered 
with  a  joyous  yell,  tumbling  into  the  breach  in  the 
thorny  wall  with  scrambling  haste.  The  deserted 
boat  tugged  at  a  leaning  tree,  turning  slowly  from 
side  to  side  among  the  lily  pads. 

Roger,  swifter  than  the  rest,  came  first  upon 
their  leader,  mounted  to  the  highest  point  of  the 
mound  and  cutting  relentlessly  at  the  side  of  his 
green  cave,  where  half  the  breadth  of  a  mammoth 
trunk  was  already  exposed. 

"  'Tis  this  fellow  we  want.  To  work,  lads ! 
Clear  the  place!"  The  command  came  with  a 
resonant  cadence;  satisfaction  sounded  in  the 
voice. 

Disappointment,  an  angry  chagrin,  showed  in 
the  scowling  faces  of  the  men.  Roger  glanced 
from  one  to  another  and  set  himself  briskly  at  the 
distruction  of  the  tangle.  How  much  did  they 
guess?  Had  they  expected  to  be  led  to  a  pirate 
hoard  here  in  the  woods  ?  The  grumbling  was  not 
loud;  the  Captain's  ears  were  keen.  With  the 
word  the  jungle  was  falling  under  a  sharp  assault. 
Knives  and  axes  struck  ravenously,  and  opening 
after  opening  appeared  where  the  solid  barricade 
was  hewn  away. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  37 

Tom  the  carpenter,  whose  face  alone  looked 
cheerful,  was  set  with  Gedge  to  enlarge  the  space 
about  the  Captain's  prize. 

Vine  strands,  fine  and  tenacious  as  spun  wire, 
dulled  their  steel;  a  milky  weed  left  white  and 
swollen  blotches  on  hands  and  arms;  now  and  then 
resounded  within  the  wood  a  noise  like  pistol  shots, 
the  bursting  of  the  sandbox  pods  loosed  by  the 
vibration  of  the  onslaught. 

Tom  the  carpenter  and  the  garrulous  Gedge 
had  made  themselves  a  chamber  wherein  an  axe 
could  swing  in  full  curve  to  the  stroke.  Now  their 
blows  echoed  in  alternate  rhythm  upon  the  solid 
girth  whose  leafy  top  was  hid  above  the  spread  of 
foliage  nearer  to  the  ground. 

"Yellow  saunder,  eh?  Then  'tis  a  dugout  he'll 
be  making. "  Bill  Sparhawk  chuckled,  cleaving 
the  jointed  bamboo  stalks,  large  as  a  man's  arm, 
that  everywhere  pierced  their  soft  insistent  way. 

"Saunder!"  The  boatswain  slashed  scornfully 
at  the  thorn  bush.  "  'Tis  a  cottonwood.  Hear 
that?  'Tis  the  cotton-tree  plover." 

Roger  lifted  his  gaze  to  the  wattled  roof  over 
their  heads,  but  the  bird's  protesting  notes  were 
lost  in  invisible  heights  above.  A  soft  steam  rose 
around  them,  water  ran  upon  their  bodies,  dripped 
into  their  eyes,  trickled  in  tickling  drops  about 
their  ears.  To  the  lad,  strong  in  the  vigour  of  de- 
lighted youth,  the  exhaustion  of  the  others  ap- 
peared a  lazy  affectation. 

"  'Tis  small  matter  if  you  call  it  saunder  or  cot- 
ton tree,  or  candlewood  for  that !  'Tis  big  enough 
to  make  a  boat,  and  a  boat  'twill  be, "  persisted 


38  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Sparhawk,  his  gnarled  features  twisting  with  his 
efforts  as  he  stooped.  "The  tender's  small,  and 
there's  work  to  do  where  the  Rose  can't  go  among 
the  rocks — eh,  Roger?"  he  questioned  slyly,  peer- 
ing up  to  the  lad's  face. 

"Nay,  Bill,  'tis  my  first  voyage.  I  know  not 
these  waters  nor  where  a  ship  might  go, "  Roger 
answered  good-naturedly,  betraying  nothing. 

Save  for  the  long  rest  at  midday,  the  work  went 
on  till  the  sun  was  lost  behind  the  trees.  The  hill- 
side and  a  wide  path  through  the  swale  beyond 
were  roughly  cleared.  From  its  cathedral  height 
the  dark-crowned  cottonwood  had  swung  in  a  great 
arc  downward  and  stretched  its  mighty  length 
upon  the  skaken  earth. 

At  the  signal  of  the  dawn  Roger  woke  and 
looked  longingly  at  the  river;  but  as  he  sluiced 
the  water  over  arms  and  face,  the  fishes  that  nibbled 
at  his  submerged  hands  gave  him  a  curious  feeling 
of  numbness  and  distress.  Without  reluctance 
he  turned  back  to  the  work  upon  the  clearing. 

The  camp  was  again  busy  at  its  toil.  The 
twisted  branches  of  the  fallen  tree  were  chopped 
and  sawn  away  till  the  monstrous  log  could 
rest  close  along  the  uneven  earth.  Lesser  boughs, 
cut  to  the  length  of  torches,  were  stripped  and  set 
to  dry  in  the  hot  sun.  Tom  the  carpenter  and 
Gedge,  half  way  between  the  severed  base  and 
the  first  outreaching  limbs,  struck  again  with 
strokes  that  came  like  clock  beats  in  regular  itera- 
tion. 

From  a  spring  high  up  among  a  tumbled  mass 
of  grass-grown  rocks,  Roger  brought  water  tinged 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  39 

with  red  ochre  and  warm  as  fresh-drawn  milk,  and 
dashed  it  with  New  England  rum.  The  men  drank 
eagerly  the  mild  dilution,  and  steaming,  went 
again  to  work,  cursing  the  sand  fleas  and  the  sting- 
ing flies,  and  scowling  vengefully  upon  the  prostrate 
trunk. 

Discontent  burned  hotter  than  the  heat  in  the 
little  eyes  of  Fangs. 

"We  didn't  ship  for  woodchoppers, "  he  snarled 
at  Gedge. 

"Ye  shipped  to  obey  orders."  The  Captain's 
tone  fell  on  the  grumbling  as  a  foot  would  crush  a 
crawling  moth. 

"  'Tis  this  here  hellish  heat,  sir, "  volunteered 
Gedge,  brushing  the  perspiration  from  his  lids. 
"  'Tain't  the  work.  " 

"  The  heat !  Are  ye  a  set  of  sickly  infants  to  cry 
out  at  a  little  heat ! "  The  Captain  drove  his  sharp 
adze  along  the  upper  side  of  the  log,  planing  the 
soft  wood  with  a  dextrous  motion.  "Be  thankful, 
Gedge  " — he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  garrulous  sailor 
— "that  thou'rt  not  cutting  lumber  in  the  snows  ! 
There's  a  fine  periagua  hid  within  this  bark.  If 

it's  sailing  ye  want,   my  men "     He  swept   a 

glance  up  and  down  the  listening  group — "  'tis 
this  boat  will  take  us  where  we're  going.  The 
sooner  'tis  done,  the  sooner  we're  there. " 

The  crew  shook  off  the  stifling  oppression  of  the 
air  as  if  someone  had  loosed  them  from  confining 
bonds,  and  bent  to  their  work,  digging  out  the 
white  fibre  with  better  speed. 

"Heat!  Poor  weaklings!  If  ye'd  ever  frozen 
in  the  woods  of  the  Kennebec  with  a  gale  off  the 


40  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

sea  driving  the  sleet  in  your  faces,  and  your  hands 
cracked  and  bleeding  from  the  frost  till  they  were 
numb  upon  the  axe,  then  ye'd  not  curse  the  heat. 
When  I  was  a  lad  I  stored  up  cold  enough  to  last 
a  lifetime. " 

"  Hell's  own  country,  be  that  north  coast  of 
Massachuset  colony!"  Gedge  put  in  with  a  swag- 
gering air  of  knowledge.  "Cold  and  salvages  and 
no  chance  for  anything  but  to  starve  and  die.  " 

"Thou'rt  wrong,  Gedge.  "  The  Captain's  strokes 
did  not  cease  upon  the  wood.  "  'Tis  a  hard  life 
and  a  perilous,  but  a  man  hath  a  chance.  Give 
me  the  new  world.  'Twas  there  I  learned  what 
brought  me  where  I  am.  Thou  shouldst  have 
lived  at  Pemaquid  with  my  mother. "  His  lips 
closed  upon  each  other  firmly,  and  he  nodded  an 
emphatic  assent  to  his  own  words.  "Here,  thou 
villain — art  gouging  like  a  child.  Slant  thy  knife ; 
cut  not  so  straight  upon  the  grain — and  keep 
within  the  line.  " 

Fangs  obeyed  with  startled  alacrity,  the  fire  be- 
neath his  lowering  brows  unsmothered. 

Tom  the  carpenter  grappled  a  black  box  out  of 
his  short  leather  breeches  and  dusted  snuff  liberally 
about  his  wide  nostrils. 

"  Tis  a  clean  life — with  good  smells, "  he  said, 
shoving  the  box  among  the  stored  treasures  of  his 
pocket.  "I've  heard  say  there's  virtue  in  the  fir 
trees  makes  a  man  longlived. " 

"Aye,"  answered  the  Captain  heartily,  "balsam 
and  bayberry  make  a  savoury  odour,  and  rocks,  and 
the  sheep,  and  winds  and  sun,  be  decent  company. 
And  when  he  digs  and  sows,  a  lad  sees  more  than 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  41 

maize  and  hemp  and  pompion  seeds — he  sees  his 
future — marks  out  a  trail  to  follow. " 

The  work  was  going  on  apace.  The  humid  air 
had  become  vital  with  a  tingling  vigor.  The  Cap- 
tain marched  from  end  to  end  of  the  boat-length 
he  had  apportioned,  and  his  hand  here,  his  voice 
there,  sped  the  task.  Something  in  himself  had  set 
the  pitch  for  effort.  The  thought  of  snows  blown 
in  whistling  winter  storms  and  heaped  upon  the 
hills  of  Pemaquid  cooled  their  glowing  bodies  and 
loosened  the  dryness  of  their  throats. 

"A  man  may  be  what  he  will  in  the  new  world; 
'twas  thus  my  mother  taught  us.  "  Captain  Phips 
still  spoke,  his  voice  galvanizing  laggard  muscles 
to  renewed  exertion.  "Not  that  saying  a  worm's 
a  silken  purse  can  make  it  so, "  he  added  with  a 
twinkle  in  the  shrewd  blue  eyes,  "but  there's  much 
silk  raw  and  uncombed  may  yet  be  carded  and 
spun. " 

Gedge  tucked  a  folded  tobacco  leaf  within  his 
cheek. 

"Be  there  periaguas,  sir,  upon  the  Kennebec?" 
he  asked  respectfully. 

"Aye,  but  they  call  them  gundalows, "  the 
carpenter  put  in  knowingly.  "  'Tis  an  Eyetalian 
name,  though  Manuel  says  it  otherwise. " 

"  'Twas  not  by  making  dugouts  on  the  Kennebec 
I  served  my  prenticeship  for  this  periagua  ! "  The 
Captain  straightened  himself  to  watch  the  cutting 
at  the  far  end  of  the  log.  "  'Twas  a  trade  learned 
by  a  winter  fire  when  I  cut  trenchers  of  the  maple 
wood  to  hold  my  meat  and  porridge. "  He  smiled 
as  his  glance  came  back  along  the  line.  "Here, 


42  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Fangs,  man,  drink  thyself  and  give  thy  mates  the 
pannikin.  Wast  ever  caught  by  Indians  ?  Thou 
hast  the  look  of  one  the  savages  have  tortured. 
Ease  off  there  and  man  the  water  keg.  Thou  art 
no  carpenter.  Tom  will  be  best  without  thee. " 

A  fury  of  remembrance  convulsed  the  fellow's 
evil  face.  Venom  gathered  in  the  little  eyes;  he 
seemed  to  shrivel  with  an  inward  heat  of  dull 
malignance. 

When  the  noonday  hour  released  them,  axes 
dropped,  tossed  in  a  ringing  heap,  and  the  men 
slept  like  children,  waking  only  to  eat  and  straight- 
way fall  again  into  the  prone  slumber  of  forgetful- 
ness. 

Roger,  lying  still  inert  after  the  first  weight  of 
sleep  was  gone,  saw  dreamily,  between  lids  half 
unclosed,  the  Captain  busy  about  the  giant  log.  A 
lizard  darted  like  a  tiny  flame  around  the  buttressed 
stem  of  a  strange  tree,  repeating  in  his  slender 
length  the  gorgeous  coloring  of  lilies  seen  beside 
the  spring.  A  snuffling  near  at  hand  widened  the 
space  between  the  drowsy  lids;  an  investigating 
snout,  with  bright  eyes  set  above,  poked  from  a 
little  copse  of  weeds  whose  leaves  had  closed  in 
quivering  haste.  The  lad  half  stirred.  The  little 
beast  took  warning,  rolled  himself  into  a  scaly, 
armored  ball,  and  Roger  strove  to  wake  and  see  if 
this  quaint  transformation  were  a  dream,  but  the 
lids  fell  fast  together,  pressed  down  by  healthful 
weariness,  and  when  the  big  voice  of  the  Captain 
roused  them  cheerfully,  he  looked  about  him 
wondering  where  he  was. 

In  the  afternoon  Tom  was  set  to  direct  the  work, 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  43 

and  Captain  Phips,  taking  Fangs  and  two  others  of 
the  weakest,  departed  in  the  tender.  Before  sun- 
down, Maccartey  was  with  them,  coming  up  from 
the  stream  in  a  drenching  downpour,  with  the 
water  running  in  small  rivers  from  his  curling 
length  of  hair.  The  men  had  stripped,  and 
lounged  on  moss  and  stumps  outside  the  umbrella- 
like  shelter  of  the  trees,  while  the  warm  flood 
poured  gratefully  upon  their  burned  and  thirsty 
skins. 

As  the  shower  ceased,  everywhere  could  be 
heard  a  running  of  quick  rills.  Each  leaf  that 
stirred  emptied  its  verdant  cup  in  a  little  flood, 
and  the  brook,  the  river's  tributary,  that  had  been 
shrunk  to  a  mere  creeping  line  between  its  parching 
banks,  rose  till  the  yellow  grasses  dipped  in  its 
tumbling  waves. 

Maccartey  gazed  with  amiable  curiosity  upon 
the  group  and  turned  an  interested  face  to  Roger. 

"Troth,  lad,  is  it  white  monkeys  thou  hast  here, 
come  down  from  the  branches  to  cavort  with  us? 
Here  now,  make  haste. "  He  set  his  look  once 
more  upon  the  men.  "Into  your  clothes  there. 
Tom,  I'm  ashamed  of  ye,  settin'  out  here  like  an 
old  baboon  in  the  face  o'  the  day !" 

The  rowers  fastening  the  tender  to  the  bank 
below  laughed  loudly. 

Dressing  was  scarce  a  task,  but  Gedge  was  fain 
to  find  it  burdensome.  As  he  covered  from  sight 
the  blue  tatooings  on  his  roughened  skin,  he  re- 
sumed the  grumblings  of  the  absent  Fangs,  ridding 
himself  with  an  angry  jerk  of  a  striped  spider  en- 
sconced upon  a  fold. 


44  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

His  mutterings  grew  crosser  while  he  searched 
for  the  spider's  mate,  and  "tyranny"  and  "slaves" 
sounded  often  in  his  scolding  monologue.  Once 
he  halted,  eying  Roger  with  bitter  indignation, 
disdaining  the  fineness  of  the  sunburned  skin  upon 
the  bared  arms.  The  lad  was  straight  and 
supple,  wholesome  and  good  to  see,  firmly  built 
with  strength  of  sinews  and  elastic  youth;  but 
Gedge  was  in  an  evil  mood. 

"Work!  'Tis  simple  talk  for  them  to  speak  of 
work  who  take  or  leave  it  as  they  will !  What 
does  Roger  know  of  work — who's  got  a  fortune 
waiting  for  him  when  he  will — and  Captain  Phips, 
who's  he  to  talk  of  work?  What's  a  captain's 
work ! " 

The  sailors  restored  to  half-clad  comfort  and  less 
fear  of  poisonous  insects,  lounged  again,  rummag- 
ing their  pockets  for  tobacco  and  small  hoards  of 
snuff. 

Maccartey  had  poured  a  quantity  of  the  broken 
leaf  from  a  cormorant  pouch  into  the  palm  of  his 
hand.  He  packed  his  pipe  bowl  slowly,  disre- 
garding the  grumbler,  and  labored  in  vain  to  strike 
a  spark  with  flint  and  tinder  from  his  box.  Sud- 
denly he  paused. 

"  Hold  thy  peace,  Silas  Gedge,  or  I'll  duck  thee 
thrice  running  and  choke  the  spleen  from  out  thy 
greedy  crop.  Work  !  'Tis  Captain  Phips  knows 
all  there  is  to  know  of  work — none  other  better. 

Which  of  ye  now "  He  let  his  eyes  wander 

about  the  circle,  gathering  up  the  attention  of  each 
man.  "Which  of  ye  now,"  he  repeated,  "ever 
fought  with  half  the  odds  he's  had  to  face !" 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  45 

"There  'tis;  the  luck's  with  him."  Gedge  had 
dropped  on  the  slope,  drained  almost  dry  already 
where  the  hot  soil  shed  the  moisture.  "Luck's 
with  him, "  he  said  the  second  time,  with  more 
philosophy,  spinning  a  Portuguese  coin  worn  thin 
with  use.  "  'Tis  an  easy  job  being  captain  and 
setting  others  to  do  the  tasks.  " 

Bill  Sparhawk,  twisted  like  a  withered  cactus 
stalk,  drank  and  chewed  and  placidly  arranged  a 
pack  of  cards  to  dry  upon  a  stump.  He  turned  as 
Maccartey  answered,  the  knave  of  hearts  for- 
lornly damp  between  his  thumb  and  finger,  and 
looked  up  to  where  the  mate  was  seated  on  the 
mighty  frustum  of  the  cotton  wood. 

The  spark  had  come  at  last  and  Maccartey  drew 
with  solemn  content  the  first  puffs  of  the  strong- 
flavored  smoke. 

"Easy  work!"  He  quoted  the  words  of  Gedge 
with  scornful  deliberation.  "Easy  work  ye  think 
it !  And  easy  work  it  may  be  for  an  ignorant, 
barefooted  shepherd  to  make  himself  commander 
of  a  King's  ship  and  the  friend  and  crony  of  great 
dukes — with  private  audience  of  the  King  himself." 

"How  is't  ye  know  that?"  asked  Sparhawk. 
"Are  ye  from  the  colonies?  By  y'r  name  ye 
should  be  out  of  Ireland  or " 

' '  Ireland  and  Scotland  and  a  grandfather  from 
York  that  went  to  Boston  when  I  was  a  dimpled 
thing  in  arms.  "  Maccartey  sucked  upon  his  pipe, 
his  gaze  quizzically  upon  the  knave  of  hearts. 
Laughter  broke  again  upon  the  stillness.  Roger's 
eyes  twinkled,  regarding  the  tough  frame  of  the 
first  officer  of  the  Rose. 


46  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

'  'Tis  from  himself  I'd  some  of  it, "  Maccartey 
went  on,  "and  more  from  Jotham  Blaize,  who 
came  from  Pemaquid — where  was  the  Captain's 
home. " 

The  men  settled  to  hear,  childishly  ready  for  a 
tale. 

'Twas  a  handful  of  men  came  out  of  Bristol 
and  landed  beyond  the  furthermost  settlements. 
Many  died  there — that  had  not  died  of  a  pest  upon 
the  voyage.  The  Captain's  father,  a  gunsmith  he 
was  in  Bristol  and  a  poor  man  as  any,  lived  not 
long  after.  So  were  left  but  the  goodwife  and  a 
monstrous  family  of  children  like  to  starve.  Wast 
ever  in  Pemaquid,  Silas  Gedge?" 

"Not  I.  Was  washed  ashore  one  summer  time 
by  Wells.  'Twas  a  place  wild  enough  for  me — 
and  in  great  fear  of  salvages.  " 

"Wells  hath  communication  with  the  towns,  but 
Pemaquid — 'twas  most  like  a  forgotten  isle.  The 
Captain  was  a  little  lad — amongst  the  youngest — 
but  'tis  said  he  cheered  them  and  told  his  mother 
'I  will  grow  up  and  build  a  mansion  for  ye  all,' 
so  that  his  brothers  laughed  and  were  heartened 
by  his  pluck.  Faith,  I  can  see  the  little  chap,  half 
frozen  and  half  fed,  and  game  for  anything. " 
Maccartey  sat  erect,  the  smoke  curling  from  the 
pipe  in  his  hand  to  trail  in  a  soft  cloud  toward  the 
stream. 

The  men  nodded. 

'Twas  a  life  to  make  or  kill  him — herding 
his  sheep  among  the  rocks  and  by  the  woods 
— in  danger  ever — of  wolves  and  Indians — till  he 
was  come  as  old  as  Roger  here,  with  more  wolf 


THE   COAST  OF   FREEDOM  47 

skins  than  learning  to  show  for  trophy !  And 
never  change — nor  any  to  give  him  hope  of  change. 
When  he  would  say,  'I  shall  not  always  stay  in 
Pemaquid,'  the  settlers  laughed.  And  when,  at 
last,  he  'prenticed  himself  to  a  ship  carpenter, 
they  laughed  again  to  see  the  lad  ambitious — only 
his  mother  would  not  say  him  nay.  'Twas  a 
'mazing  large  family.  A  score  of  brothers  he 
had,  and  sisters  besides — and  the  oldest  of  all, 
that  were  men  grown,  left  behind  in  England ! 
'Twas  a  brave  woman  I'm  thinkin'  brought  all 
those  children  into  the  world,  and  with  babies  in 
her  arms  came  to  the  wilderness  where  there  was  not 
so  much  as  a  corn  blade  for  food  and  naught  but 
water  to  drink,  and  kept  a  stout  cheer  for  rough 
weather  and  mild.  God — 'twas  a  wonder !  She 
died  in  Pemaquid.  'Tis  a  grief  to  the  Captain  she 
never  saw  the  mansion  he  had  promised  her.  He 
was  but  a  ship  carpenter — then — but  'twas  in  him 
to  be  more. " 

"  Twas   luck,"    Gedge   murmured   obstinately. 

'Twas  luck  that  made  him  rise." 

"  'Twas  work — an'  brains  at  the  back  of  it,  ye 
blitherin'  fool !  How  many  of  ye — "  Maccartey's 
voice  hurled  the  question  at  them  with  rampant 
energy — "would  have  left  the  sheep  he'd  tended 
till  none  believed  he  could  do  better,  and  learnt  a 
trade?  And  which  one  of  ye,  a  man  grown  that 
couldn't  spell  his  name,  would  ha'  gone  to  Boston 
where  the  ignorant  be  most  despised,  an'  carried 
himself  so  none  could  scoff !  'Twas  there  first  he 
learned  to  read  and  write,  though  he  was  brave  of 
manner  and  withal  so  gentle,  he  was  sought  of  them 


48  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

that  knew  good  wine  from  cheap.  And  so  it  came 
he  married  a  gentlewoman — who  thinks  no  other 
man  be  good  enough  to  shine  his  buckles.  " 

"An"  I  could  stay  at  home  and  stuff  my  carcass 
from  a  silver  trencher  I'd  work  no  more!"  Bill 
Sparhawk  had  dried  his  cards  and  shuffled  them 
now  together  with  a  shake  of  the  head  that  resigned 
a  hopeless  puzzle. 

"While  there's  work  to  be  done  Captain  Phips 
'11  take  no  ease, "  Maccartey  answered  shortly. 

Roger  watched  the  fire — that  burned  ill — and 
said  but  little.  He  was  far  from  the  island  camp, 
his  thoughts  now  in  Boston,  now  in  Pemaquid. 
Once  a  great  snake  swung  from  a  branch  and  de- 
voured some  crumbs  left  from  a  sailor's  meal,  then 
coiled  away  out  of  sight.  He  did  not  stir  nor 
give  it  heed.  "The  snakes  have  no  poison," 
Captain  Phips  had  said — and  he  believed  im- 
plicitly. Gedge  had  not  believed,  but  killed  the 
first  he  saw  with  frightened  haste.  To  the  others, 
despite  of  grumbling  and  distaste  for  toil,  the 
Captain's  words  sufficed.  What  he  said  partook 
of  the  potency  of  that  they  called  his  "luck." 
Nor  did  they  put  great  faith  in  tales  of  youthful 
poverty.  Every  man  knew  that  there  were  poor 
and  there  were  rich,  just  as  there  were  ants  and 
there  were  dragon-flies.  How  could  you  make  one 
of  the  other? 

Talk  went  on  in  a  vein  less  hard  for  the  credulity. 
Pirate  tales,  more  smartly  seasoned  for  monotony 
than  Maccartey's  yarn,  were  flung  out  with  lush 
profanity. 

"Aye — the  'Lady'  they  called  him.     He  stuck 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  49 

at  nothing. "  Gedge  raised  his  voice  to  match  his 
hideous  climax.  "  He  drove  them  'neath  the  lash 
to  bear  their  treasure  and  stow  it  on  his  ship,  and 
then  he  cut  them  up  and  fed  them  to  his  dogs.  " 

Roger  heard  little  of  what  went  on  about  him 
save  for  an  occasional  outburst  of  shout  or  song. 
The  Boston-bred  lad,  worshipping  afar,  and  now 
brought  within  the  magnetic  radius  of  his  hero's 
presence,  had  never  before  realized  that  hero's 
humble  origin.  Was  it  true  that  the  New  World 
meant  freedom  for  a  man  to  rise  above  the  station 
where  Providence  had  set  his  lot?  A  strange 
thought,  startling  to  the  boy,  but  appealing  with 
the  thrill  of  inspiration  to  that  sense  of  justice, 
already  the  strongest  impulse  of  a  many-sided 
nature. 

But  chiefly  his  imagination  dwelt  among  the 
pines  and  hemlocks  of  the  rocky  shore  of  Pem- 
aquid,  following  the  boyhood  of  another  lad  whose 
schoolmaster  had  been  hardship  and  whose  patience 
had  been  gained  among  the  stupid  flocks  and  in 
the  watchful  hours  of  Indian  warfare,  and  the 
unmoved  endurance  of  incredulous  jeers.  How 
many  years,  beneath  the  cold  stars  and  the  colder 
moon,  through  seed-time  and  scanty  harvest,  the 
rage  of  winter  and  the  summer's  drouth,  he  must 
have  looked  off  to  the  unquiet  sea,  biding  his 
chance,  a  clamouring  force  within  him  quickening 
his  blood  even  amidst  the  gentle  breathing  of  the 
huddled  sheep  ! 

The  picture  did  not  fade  as  the  weeks  came  one 
upon  the  other,  bringing  the  end  of  their  persistent 
toil.  Captain  Phips  had  an  added  power  in  the 


5o  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

lad's  eyes  that  saw  the  strength  of  his  achieve- 
ment. The  periagua  grew  slowly  under  the  shap- 
ing hands.  It  was  the  Captain  himself  who 
worked  hardest  and  longest,  although  the  slow 
fever  born  of  the  nights  alternately  parched  and 
chilled  him,  biting  at  his  muscles  in  vindictive 
nips  of  pain.  Among  the  men,  he  portioned  out 
the  bitter  Jesuit's  bark,  watching  each  dose  con- 
sumed, and  letting  none  suspect  how  sorely  the 
disease  laid  hold  on  his  stout  frame. 

Roger  was  often  at  the  ship,  a  trusty  messenger 
between  Maccartey  and  the  camp.  Of  the  loutish 
Jacob  Munch  he  saw  but  little,  the  two  lads  chang- 
ing places  with  the  change  of  leader  on  the  boat. 

Hunting  parties  scoured  the  jungle  toward  the 
summit  of  the  spurs,  and  Roger  grew  inured  to 
strangeness,  where  all  was  strange.  The  tops 
of  even  the  nearest  hills  were  inaccessible.  Great 
forests  of  ferns  made  a  soft  and  hopeless  barrier, 
and  left  no  peak  exposed  whence  could  be  had  a 
view.  In  the  compact  enclosure  of  the  woods,  the 
rankness  of  the  land's  fertility  oppressed  him  to  a 
kind  of  suffocation,  the  sun  that  worked  this 
miracle  of  increase  fermenting  in  its  turn  a  quick 
decay.  Beneath  the  mossy  shade,  a  subterranean 
fauna  seemed  to  glide  and  crawl.  The  horde  of 
parasitic  growths,  a  newly  sprouting  plant  from 
every  shoot  or  twig,  each  tiniest  thing  another's 
feeding  ground,  multiplied  in  grotesque  mysteries ; 
great  ant  hills  heaped  from  powdery  dust  of 
lichened  vines  and  fleshy  orchid  leaves,  were  am- 
bush of  an  implacable  and  murderous  foe;  hollows 
in  dank  obscurity  let  the  steps  plunge  in  tree 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  SI 

trunks  dead  and  fungus-clothed,  and  stir  a  uni- 
verse of  harboring  life  to  fierce  activity.  Great 
nauseous  flowers,  like  mottled  faces  of  tree-dwell- 
ing gnomes,  swung  down  across  his  path  and 
thrust  at  him  their  scarlet  tongues.  Everywhere 
the  large  abundance  of  the  ungirdled  earth  gave 
vague  offence  to  senses  too  powerfully  assailed. 

But  the  exhilaration  of  battle  with  the  wood, 
the  joy  of  exploration,  kept  alive  the  first  delight. 
Dark-shrouded  grottoes  in  a  mountain  ledge,  the 
cheerful  ruin  of  a  Spanish  house,  the  red  scar  of  a 
fire  that  burned  and  died  in  some  dried  upper 
slope  of  distant  mountain  heights,  these  had  a 
charm  that  rivalled  the  dangers  of  the  chase. 

The  Captain  went  rarely  with  the  hunters,  and 
even  in  the  midst  of  the  rewarding  barbecue  his 
eyes  forsook  the  roasting  boar  to  dwell  with  serious 
calculation  on  their  unfinished  task.  Often  at  the 
last,  while  the  sailors  lay  steeped  in  dull  uncon- 
sciousness, his  thoughts,  impatient,  wrought  upon 
it  ceaselessly,  and  he  slept  the  vigilant  slumber 
of  those  whose  nights  deepen  the  responsibility 
of  the  day. 

It  was  a  goodly  craft.  The  rains  had  soaked  it, 
the  sun  dried  and  baked  it,  seasoning  the  whole; 
the  thwarts  were  smoothed  and  fitted  to  their 
ledge;  great- bladed  oars  were  fashioned  of  a 
harder  wood,  and  still  a  new  day  saw  new  toil  upon 
the  cumbrous  boat.  Yet  in  the  end  all  was  ac- 
complished to  the  Captain's  will  and  the  "brave 
periagua"  crushed  the  lily  pads  and  floated  by 
the  tender  on  the  current  of  the  stream. 

That  night  they  feasted  on  the  hill.     All  day 


52  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

the  tender  had  plied  to  and  fro  bearing  water  from 
the  spring  to  fill  the  casks  upon  the  Rose.  Now 
with  the  companions  of  his  task  Roger  rested  in 
the  camp. 

The  feast  was  merry;  far  into  the  black  hours 
of  the  night  laughter  rose  among  the  scattered 
groups.  Against  the  new  obstruction  to  its  flow 
the  river  rippled  with  a  pleasing  murmur  of  sur- 
prise. Torches  of  candle  wood  flamed  upon  the 
darkness  of  the  river,  glowing  beyond  the  vine- 
laced  boughs.  Thick  smoke  went  swirling  into 
space,  mounting  in  slow  spirals  from  the  flares. 
Through  the  current  shining  creatures  rose  to  the 
lure.  The  ripples  flickered  above  sunken  logs, 
and  dancing  swarms  of  insects  swam  in  nebulous 
clusters  within  the  light. 

Roger  gazed  eager  and  speculative  upon  the 
place  where  the  periagua  was  moored  within  the 
cove.  Would  the  inert  log  that  had  been  made  a 
thing  to  fetch  and  carry,  obedient  to  the  oar  and 
sail,  yet  bear  loads  of  precious  cargo  to  brim  the 
waiting  coffers  of  the  Rose?  What  would  it  be? 
Jewels,  the  gems  of  Spanish  donnas  gleaming  under 
the  sun  for  the  first  time  after  half  a  century  of  dull 
oblivion?  The  shining  altar  vessels  of  some  rav- 
ished church  of  far-off  Popish  lands  ?  Strange  coins 
and  curious  fragments  filched  from  other  lives  of 
other  days  ?  Or  had  the  lost  ship  been  a  rightful 
caravel,  owned  by  honest  merchants,  carrying  an 
honest  cargo  of  bullion,  of  proper  golden  coin  or 
heavy  pieces  of  eight  made  fast  in  leathern  bags  ? 

One  by  one  the  flares  went  out.  In  the  creeping 
chill  of  the  lifeless  dark  the  men  wound  their  blankets 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  53 

closer  and  huddled  back  to  back  for  warmth.  The 
sentinel  rekindled  the  sputtering  embers  of  the 
fire  and  hugged  the  smoky  blaze.  A  cold  steam 
hovered  above  the  slipping  water,  poured  itself 
over  the  opposite  shore,  and  climbed  stealthily 
almost  to  Roger's  feet.  Great  bats  whirred  above  his 
head.  Out  of  the  shadows,  sunk  to  blacker  night 
after  the  torches'  glare,  he  heard  the  raucous  cry 
of  birds  that  hunted  in  the  dark.  As  the  fire  sank, 
unnoticed  by  the  sleepy  sentinel,  into  a  dull  shine 
just  strong  enough  itself  to  be  discovered,  he  heard 
the  angry  baying  of  wild  dogs  deep  within  the 
forest.  The  trees  dripped  steadily ;  now  and  then  a 
crash  in  the  stillness  set  the  hanging  leaves  astir 
and  big  drops  rained  upon  his  face. 

Still  Roger  thought  of  the  periagua,  and  of  Cap- 
tain Phips  guiding,  controlling,  mastering  all  these 
savage  forces  in  wood  and  stream  and  human 
passions  to  serve  the  ends  of  high  emprise.  And 
when  he  closed  his  eyes  upon  the  sentinel  and  the 
viewless  dark,  the  heavy  breathing  of  the  men  was 
thunder  of  surf  that  broke  upon  low-lying  reefs. 
Through  the  pellucid  depths  he  looked  far  down 
and  saw  a  world  of  glittering  treasure,  and  in  the 
midst  a  Spaniard,  guardian  of  the  trove,  who 
slept  upon  his  side,  the  golden  fringes  of  his  doublet 
awash  within  the  waves.  Sighing  for  pleasure 
of  his  dream,  he  woke,  filling  his  lungs  with  a 
long  conscious  breath. 

Two  eyes  out  of  the  dark — yellow,  glowing  upon 
his — eyes  that  moved,  then  vanished,  then  came 
again !  Nay,  'twas  but  the  moonlight  agleam 
among  the  leaves  that  turned  there  and  by  their 


54  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

waving  hid  the  shine.  The  air  grew  dimly  bright- 
er, then  glimmered  with  the  yellow  of  the  palest 
gold,  the  tree  tops  set  vaguely,  flat  as  pictures  in 
a  book,  against  the  coming  light.  The  gleam 
touched  the  gliding  dark  that  was  the  river,  then 
widening,  spread  toward  the  shore  whereon  the 
sleepers  lay,  illumining  the  boats,  spilling  along 
the  river's  nearer  edge,  rising  in  the  well  of  shad- 
ow, till  the  moon  sailing  clear  of  the  encircling 
wall  of  trees  looked  down  effulgent  upon  the 
camp. 

The  sounds  died  away.  Silence,  stirred  but 
faintly  in  the  deeper  woods,  came  upon  the  cry  ings 
of  the  night.  The  river  moved,  a  glassy  stream, 
all  yellow  radiance  between  its  palely  shining 
banks.  The  breath  of  those  who  slept  sank  in 
long  sighs,  exhaling  softly.  The  mist  clung  in  fine 
spray  on  branch  and  drooping  vine  and  the  brave 
periagua  wrapped  in  its  shimmering  gold  strained 
more  and  more  upon  the  flood. 

Another  dawn  and  the  camp,  the  bays,  the 
shores  of  green  Hispaniola  were  left  behind.  In 
the  abandoned  camp  the  wild  dogs  battled;  within 
the  bay  the  great  crabs  crawled  in  unmolested 
peace;  the  shade  of  the  crag  with  its  tree-tops 
nicked  upon  the  blue  fell  into  a  silent  pool,  and  tide 
and  current  swirled  unseen,  contesting  forever  the 
noiseless  right  of  way. 

The  mountains  faded  to  the  dark  irregular  line, 
became  a  dim  cloud,  and  were  gone.  Far  out  of 
sight  of  land,  the  Araby  Rose  was  again  the  only 
sail  upon  the  waste.  No  isle  rose  to  mark 
the  path,  no  rock,  no  sandy  bar,  lifted  itself  upon 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  55 

the  surface  of  the  flood.  The  teeming  life  and 
wood  sounds  of  the  shore  changed  for  the  strain  of 
silence  and  the  weight  of  desolation !  The  sky, 
the  sea,  burned  with  one  light,  a  white  and  fervid 
glow.  Upon  the  deck,  shadows,  sharp-edged  as 
those  of  an  Italian  noon,  made  shifting  lines  to 
mark  the  glare. 

The  dark  came  suddenly,  but  no  dew-laden  wind 
blew  cool  upon  the  Rose.  Cautiously,  circling  in 
the  void,  she  waited  for  the  moon;  then  blossom- 
ing like  a  flower  in  all  the  yellow  glory  of  the  night, 
she  swam  nearer  and  yet  more  near  to  where  old 
enemies  of  men  and  ships  lay  crouched  beneath  the 
waves,  holding  in  grim  jaws  the  secret  of  their 
quest. 


CHAPTER  IV 

"  FOR    HELL    AND    THE    LADY  " 

THE  periagua  lay  pitching  in  a  channel  be- 
tween two  sunken  reefs.  On  either  side, 
the  water  boiled  noisily,  frothing  with  im- 
potent disgust  at  each  obstruction  and  returning 
with  senseless  persistence  to  the  assault. 

The  men  rested  on  their  oars,  sullen  and  without 
speech.  Roger  tried  to  follow  the  vanished  divers 
hidden  by  the  dull  opaque  of  the  waves,  and 
trails  of  foam  splotched  upon  the  surface  mocked 
the  attempt.  Half  a  league  away,  hovering  in 
the  safety  of  the  open,  was  the  Araby  Rose.  The 
same  white  glitter  burned  upon  her  sails ;  the  same 
shining  desolation  stretched  unbroken  to  the  rim 
of  an  empty  world.  Through  sickness  and  re- 
covery, seasons  of  toil  and  suffering  idleness; 
through  days  among  the  submerged  rocks  when 
drags  and  iron  grapples  scorched  the  hand  that 
touched  them,  and  days  upon  the  Rose  when  the 
lukewarm  brine  hissed  upon  shrunken  planks  and 
steamed  in  new-washed  scuppers,  the  men  of  the 
Company's  ship  had  faced  the  unwinking  glare. 

"  'Tis  little  the  Duke  of  Albemarle  and  his 
Treasure  Company  can  know  of  what  the  Captain 
hath  to  try  him  in  this  search, "  Roger  thought 
often,  seeing  the  dauntless  and  resourceful  cheer 
no  hardship  could  abate. 

The  crew  were  troublesome,  a  treacherous  mix- 

56 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  57 

ture  of  seditious  blood.  Those  who  had  worked 
upon  the  great  periagua  had  been  the  indifferent 
best  of  an  untamed  rabble.  Only  the  Captain's 
fear-naught  government  averted  week  by  week 
some  grim  catastrophe.  Of  all  the  horde  none  had 
endured  so  well  as  those  of  the  New  World,  sailors 
from  the  colonies,  and  the  Indian  divers  brought 
from  Jamaica  for  King  James  to  see  and  rescued 
from  London  by  Captain  Phips.  Save  in  the  bay 
of  Hispanolia,  the  red  men  had  not  even  sickened; 
unflinching,  stoical,  their  silence  rasped  their  fel- 
lows like  the  changeless  pressure  of  the  heat. 

While  they  dived,  Maccartey  stood  scanning  the 
neighbouring  reefs  for  his  next  move,  and  when  the 
Indians,  their  bodies  shining  from  their  hazardous 
bath,  tumbled  lithely  to  place,  he  opened  his  mouth 
to  give  an  order.  As  the  first  syllable  broke  into 
a  violent  exclamation,  the  crew  looked  up. 

Sulky,  angrily  defiant,  they  followed  the  mate's 
arrested  gaze  and  their  expression  lightened. 
Their  bodies  woke,  electrified ;  their  hands  laid  hold 
upon  the  oars  with  a  lively  grip.  Tongues  were 
loosened  and  a  babel  rose  to  die  upon  the  instant 
into  sharp  exertion. 

"A  Spaniard!" 

"A  pirate!" 

The  mate  shouted.  The  heavy  boat  plunged 
forward.  From  the  Araby  Rose,  far  off  across  the 
broken  reefs,  fluttered  the  signal  of  recall. 

All  the  pent  energy,  fermented  in  long  months 
of  disappointment,  burst  in  Roger's  stroke.  Ex- 
citement rioted  in  his  veins,  thrilled  outward  from 
the  quick  and  steady  beating  of  his  heart,  to  drive 


58  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

faster,  always  faster,  the  blade  against  the  resisting 
wave. 

With  each  swing  of  his  body,  the  stranger, 
brought  into  his  field  of  vision,  grew  larger,  more 
threatening,  against  the  sky.  She  was  moving 
with  amazing  speed  straight  toward  a  point  that 
divided  the  periagua  from  the  Rose.  Once  cut  off 
from  their  ship,  and,  the  lad  knew,  it  would  make 
small  difference — Spaniard  or  pirate.  The  methods 
of  the  privateer  and  of  the  rover  were  vastly  similar. 

The  men  strained  harder  at  the  bending  wood. 
The  divers  had  seized  the  oars  thrust  into  their 
hands  and  sweat  mingled  with  the  sea  water  upon 
their  glistening  backs.  Alone  of  all  the  crew  they 
had  shown  neither  surliness  nor  excitement,  and 
now  they  held  to  their  work  skilful,  unflagging, 
with  faces  whose  fixity  neither  labor  nor  insult  had 
moved. 

The  sudden  wind  was  capricious.  The  sail 
availed  them  little.  Through  Roger's  mind  fan- 
tastic thoughts  made  rapid  procession,  oftenest  a 
regret  that  so  rare  a  race  had  no  spectator  but  the 
birds.  He  felt  a  dumb  anger  at  Fangs,  who 
sucked  the  air  hissingly  through  his  protruding 
teeth,  weakening  as  he  rowed.  It  was  like  him, 
the  lad  felt,  to  have  plenty  of  breath  for  grumbling 
and  none  for  work,  failing  at  the  very  beginning 
of  the  struggle. 

Their  ship  was  under  way  to  meet  them,  her 
sails  filling.  The  light  that  came  and  went  beneath 
the  new  shadow  of  hurrying  clouds  showed  her  one 
minute  with  wings  grey  and  old,  the  next  bright- 
ening in  a  miracle  of  whiteness.  A  soft  commotion 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  59 

had  risen  in  air  and  sky,  hopeful  foreboding  of  a 
tropic  shower.  The  stranger  loomed  momently 
near,  a  larger  ship  than  the  Araby  Rose,  with  a 
glory  of  canvas  crowning  a  mighty  hull.  To  slip 
past  the  bow  of  the  enemy  and  make  for  the  open 
sea,  that  was  the  hope  of  the  Rose. 

"Were't  not  for  us!" 

Roger  heard  the  mate's  groan,  heard  an  order 
sharp  and  explosive.  The  periagua  shipped  the 
seething  crest  of  a  wave.  Maccartey  pulled  hard 
upon  the  sheet  and  yelled  as  the  men  drove  the 
quivering  wood  through  the  green  water. 

His  shouts  put  life  into  backs  broken  with  des- 
perate effort,  and  the  Rose  came  down  upon  them 
hardly  faster  than  the  periagua  drove  through  the 
fumbling  waves.  The  stranger  was  moving  with 
still  greater  speed  as  the  wind  quickened  into  a 
sharper  gust. 

The  mate's  voice  bit  and  stung  the  panting 
rowers  to  a  new  spasm  of  wrenching  force.  Fangs 
toppled  forward  with  blue  lips  whitening  across  a 
gasping  breath.  Roger,  sliding  upon  the  thwart, 
tore  from  the  loosening  hold  the  upraised  oar  lest 
it  trail  upon  the  water,  and  pulled  again  with  blind 
frenzy  as  a  lash  struck  across  his  back. 

The  lash  was  far  more  a  symbol  than  a  fact  upon 
the  Araby  Rose.  It  saved  them  now.  Nerves 
sensitive  by  long  immunity  woke  to  the  cutting  of 
the  thong.  The  arm  of  the  mate  was  powerful; 
not  a  blow  was  wasted.  In  the  moment  that 
might  have  lost  them  all,  he  brought  them  with  a 
live  leaping  of  the  boat  beyond  the  line  of  the 
stranger's  bow. 


60  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

As  the  men  climbed  and  fell,  were  hauled,  scram- 
bling and  exhausted,  upon  the  deck,  Roger  saw 
the  black  flag  broken  out  at  the  masthead  of  the 
foe.  For  the  smaller  vessel  a  stern  chase  was  the 
only  safety,  but  to  reach  the  open  she  must  run 
between  the  pirate  and  the  Boilers,  outmost  and 
worst  of  all  the  hidden  reefs. 

The  spent  crew  drank  thirstily,  recovering  as  by 
a  prodigy,  and  sprang  every  man  to  his  place. 
Beneath  the  focussed  energy  of  the  Captain's  look 
the  light  of  battle  kindled;  in  his  voice  the  joy  of 
action  glowed  and  vibrated.  The  strength  of  his 
colossal  confidence  entered  into  the  ship.  The 
men  forgot  that  the  pirate  was  larger,  better  armed, 
manned  doubtless  by  twice  their  number.  No 
other  Captain  than  William  Phips  ever  went  down 
to  the  sea  that  could  make  of  a  motley  like  this 
such  seamen  and  such  fighters.  Roger  saw  and 
felt  it  as  the  sails  moved  to  the  sound  of  the  Cap- 
tain's orders  and  the  Araby  Rose,  leaving  the  drift- 
ing periagua  far  behind,  converged  upon  the  point 
of  contest. 

Second  by  second  certainty  was  made  more  sure. 
They  could  not  evade  the  enemy's  swiftly  coming 
prow.  As  well  as  the  oldest  sailor  of  them  all, 
Roger  knew  that  their  remaining  hope  was  a  man- 
ful death.  But  like  the  others,  eldest  or  youngest, 
he  kept  steadfastly  at  his  task,  undismayed,  con- 
fident against  reason,  hearkening  to  the  yoice  of 
the  Captain. 

Jacob  Munch  alone  of  all  the  ship's  company  was 
unaffected  by  that  voice.  He  was  stationed  with 
Roger,  serving  the  gunners,  and  he  watched  fur- 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  61 

tively  an  opportunity  to  slip  away.  Roger  went 
swiftly  to  and  fro  as  the  mate  commanded,  his 
body  tense  with  expectation,  his  heart  swelling 
against  his  breathing,  his  under  consciousness 
wandering  on  abstract  errands  that  had  to  do  with 
peace  and  pleasant  ways.  In  the  intervals*  he 
knew  the  orders  shouted,  repeated  above  his  head, 
felt  the  jerk  and  recovery  of  the  vessel  in  each 
changed  direction,  listened  to  the  protesting  of  the 
planks  straining  upon  one  another,  and  wondered 
vaguely  why  he  was  set  to  so  mechanical  a  labour, 
never  suspecting  the  Captain  of  softness  in  the 
choice  of  this  better  shelter  of  the  gun  deck. 

As  the  first  noise  of  the  conflict  broke  horridly 
on  the  air  he  seemed  to  hear  the  sounds  of  the  same 
hour  at  home,  the  lowing  of  cattle  in  the  lane,  the 
twitter  of  swallows  by  the  eaves.  Drawing  nearer, 
he  waited  alert  and  ready  behind  the  mate. 

The  pirate's  aim  was  good.  There  came  to  the 
ears  a  cracking  of  light  timbers  and  the  sudden  plop 
into  the  spouting  water  beyond  the  Rose. 

"Missed  the  mainmast,"  he  heard  Maccartey 
mutter. 

A  shout  from  above.  The  smell  of  gunpowder 
rank  in  the  air.  Around  him  answer  and  response, 
continuous,  ominous,  antiphonal  roar  of  battle, 
began  and  mounted  till  the  rage  of  men's  voices 
could  be  heard  across  the  narrowing  water.  Then 
and  till  the  end  Roger  heard  as  if  the  contest  were 
the  dream,  the  vision  of  home  the  reality.  The 
double  consciousness  sharpened  rather  than  dulled 
his  vigilance. 

The  Captain's  shout  came  down  to  him:     "  'Tis 


62  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

the  Walrus  !  'Tis  the  ship  of  Anthony  Blount  the 
devils  have ! "  and  the  howl  of  the  New  England 
men  that  answered  it. 

The  mate  was  giving  shot  for  shot,  taking  the 
pirate  twice  'twixt  wind  and  water  in  wounds  that 
were  patched  up  promptly  with  skilled  hands. 

"Get  above,  Jacob  Munch,  and  bring  me  word, " 
yelled  the  mate. 

The  slouching  figure,  already  deserting  the  guns, 
hesitated,  reluctant.  Maccartey  saw  without  turn- 
ing, and  with  an  oath  changed  the  order. 

"No:  come  ye  here  where  I  can  watch  ye.  Go 
you,  Roger.  'Tis  the  yard  arm  and  short  shrift 
ye'll  get,  "  he  added  savagely  to  the  shaking  Jacob. 
"Quick  there,  ye  whelp  ! "  He  worked  as  he  spoke, 
and  as  he  finished,  his  weapon  belched  its  contents, 
straining  in  its  terrific  recoil. 
"Aim  for  her  masts  !" 

The  loud  command,  the  shuffling  of  feet,  the 
splutter  of  the  gunner's  coals,  the  whistling  breath 
from  the  torn  throat  of  a  wounded  man,  gleams  of 
fire  and  the  reverberation  of  the  guns,  the  crash 
and  jar  or  groan  of  racked  and  splintered  timbers, 
the  feel  of  a  helpless  body  stumbled  over  in  the 
murk,  all  wrote  themselves  at  once  and  for  always 
in  the  lad's  brain,  each  separate  sound  or  sight  or 
touch  distinct  as  graven  lines,  yet  all  one  shock  of 
clamorous,  Heaven-defying  madness. 

The  order  carried  without  a  trumpet.  The 
Walrus  had  sheered  on  her  course,  standing  down 
at  right  angles  to  ram  the  weaker  vessel.  A  rend- 
ing of  wood  and  the  smell  of  burning  on  the  Araby 
Rose !  No  man  looked  behind  at  his  own  disaster 


THE   COAST  OF   FREEDOM  63 

but  set  his  eyes  to  sight  the  heavy  sticks  of  the 
enemy.  Thick  smoke  spread  from  the  plunging 
side  of  the  Rose  and  swept  upward  to  mingle  in  a 
single  cloud  with  the  dusk  and  vapour  of  the  pirate's 
guns.  Through  a  rift  in  its  blackness  Roger  saw 
that  a  mass  of  her  upper  rigging  had  fallen — her 
sentient  obedience  gone  at  the  very  moment  when 
she  was  ready  for  the  blow.  As  she  swerved 
obliquely  to  the  impact,  then  swung  broadside  on, 
the  Rose  lay  fatally  open  to  her  fire. 

The  voice  of  Captain  Phips  rose  clearer,  nerving 
the  brain  that  heard,  the  arm  that  executed. 
Roger  had  made  his  report  swiftly  and  returned  as 
his  own  ship  yielded  to  her  sails  and  drew  square 
across  the  pirate's  deflected  bow.  The  fire  of  the 
Walrus  had  come  too  late  to  be  deadly.  The  Rose, 
scarred  and  torn,  was  yet  not  crippled.  The  volley 
aimed  at  her  vitals  had  cleared  her  as  she  came 
about.  The  sea  leaped  angrily,  spitting  under  the 
plunging  balls. 

Now  at  the  word  the  side  of  the  smaller  ship 
opened  in  simultaneous  flower,  deadly  bright — and 
thunder  followed  the  flame.  The  enemy  was  sunk 
in  the  hollow  of  the  waves,  the  Rose  borne  upward 
on  the  swell  for  which  she  had  waited,  and  this 
grim  reprisal  harrowed  the  deck  of  the  Walrus, 
shredding  it  in  maimed  and  broken  fragments  of 
men. 

The  wind  was  fitful,  the  setting  sun  withdrawn 
under  clouds.  Beyond  them  rain  was  falling,  beat- 
ing the  sea  smoother  where  the  shower  had  struck. 
The  air  blackened  momently,  and  the  smoke, 
noisome  with  the  smell  of  death,  hung  low,  belly- 


64  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

ing   about   the    baffled    Walrus    and    for  a    little 
covering  the  Rose  with  impenetrable  shade. 

Had  the  enemy  but  been  wholly  disabled  the  Ara- 
by  Rose  might  have  kept  straight  onward  leaving 
the  pirate  to  wallow  in  her  own  defeat.  Even  so  the 
treasure  hunt  had  been  in  danger  from  a  doubly 
enraged  foe.  But  the  buccaneer  was  crippled  only 
for  the  moment ;  her  fallen  hamper  but  temporarily 
hindered  the  helm.  Escape  from  the  larger  ship 
was  still  impossible. 

The  Rose,  sliding  forward,  seemed  suicidally 
bent  upon  opening  out  the  angle  between  her  bow 
and  the  pirate's  stern.  It  was  no  part  of  the  enemy's 
design  to  sink  an  unlooted  prize,  but  to  risk  further 
injury  from  the  guns  of  the  Walrus  was  as  far 
from  the  mind  of  Captain  Phips.  Rather,  desert- 
ing his  own  vessel,  he  would  hurl  his  entire  force 
upon  the  rover's  deck. 

Weapons  had  been  given  out,  the  gunners 
summoned  above.  Grappling  hooks  crossed,  fell 
short,  or  caught  upon  the  rails.  The  pirates  were 
massed  forward  ready  for  the  spring. 

Below  the  broken  poop,  where  he  had  shouted 
his  farewells  to  the  Pelloquin,  Roger  was  waiting. 
His  forehead  and  lips  were  drawn  in  lines  intent 
and  watchful,  yet  on  the  verge  of  the  encounter 
he  felt  no  strong  exhilaration  but  rather,  as  on  the 
London  wharf,  a  dulness  like  that  of  disappointed 
dreams. 

He  had  dragged  from  among  the  implements 
of  their  "fishing"  a  long  iron  rake.  Resting  it 
upon  the  rail  he  looked  down  across  the  space 
dividing  the  ships.  As  he  looked  a  hand  was 


thrust  from  a  porthole  in  the  stern  of  the  Walrus. 
In  the  instant  of  brief  wonderment  before  it  was 
withdrawn  he  noticed  that  it  was  white  and  slender. 

"Faith — 'tis  a  prisoner!" 

It  was  Maccartey's  voice  behind  him. 

The  Rose,  her  bow  brought  abreast  of  the 
pirate's  lofty  poop,  had  been  .fastened  by  grapples 
at  the  nearest  point  of  approach,  but  where  Roger 
stood,  the  unarrested  impetus  of  her  motion  was 
opening  out  the  distance  between  the  two  boats. 
Raising  the  rake  above  his  head,  with  all  his  force 
he  shot  it  forward.  As  he  leaned  far  out  to  make 
sure  of  his  aim  and  the  teeth  clamped  upon  the 
pirate's  rail,  the  roughening  seas  lifted  the  Walrus 
and  drew  him  sharply  outward  and  up.  There 
was  no  time  to  loosen  his  hold.  Foam  churned 
over  him  as  he  fell,  and  in  the  medley  of  sound  and 
smoke  above,  the  absence  of  one  figure  remained 
unmarked. 

Other  grapples  had  seconded  his  fruitless  effort 
and  checked  the  drift  of  the  unwilling  Rose.  The 
space  between  the  two  ships  was  well-nigh  closed, 
where  the  pirates,  smarting  in  an  agony  of  haste  to 
begin  the  slaughter,  were  crowded  to  the  bulwarks. 
They  seemed  fairly  belted  with  pistols.  More  than 
one  gripped  his  knife  between  his  teeth,  his  hands 
free  for  the  passage  from  boat  to  boat.  The  twi- 
light of  the  clouded  air  gave  to  their  ferocity  some- 
thing grotesque  and  ghastly. 

There  was  one  gun  upon  the  main  deck  of  the 
Rose.  Slowly,  hidden  by  the  crowding  sailors,  it 
had  been  dragged  to  position,  filled  with  a  mighty 
load  of  grape,  and  aimed.  When  the  sides  of  the 


66  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

two  vessels  battered  jarringly  at  each  other  in  their 
closing  drift,  the  throng  about  the  gun  separated; 
full  in  the  face  of  the  maniacal  crew  of  the  Walrus 
the  charge  exploded. 

The  pirates  had  pressed  thickly  upon  one  an- 
other, packed,  wedged,  welded,  in  a  solid  mass  of 
human  flesh;  some  were  already  upon  the  rail.  As 
they  fell  back,  the  dead  upon  the  living,  the  man- 
gled under  the  dead,  screams — hoarse,  shrill — rose 
where  the  triumphant  yell  had  been  cut  short. 

Upon  them,  leaving  no  instant  for  recovery, 
rushed  the  men  of  the  Rose — and  in  the  onset  none 
were  left  behind  saved  the  killed,  the  maimed,  and 
Jacob  Munch,  hidden  within  the  empty  hold  and 
shivering  with  fear. 

At  the  very  moment  of  the  explosion  Roger's 
head  rose  above  the  water.  He  had  come  up 
quickly,  close  under  the  black  hull  of  the  Walrus. 
As  he  emerged  into  the  foam  something  brushed 
across  his  face.  He  grasped  it,  still  blinded  and 
half  dazed,  but  holding  to  it  mechanically  as  he 
found  it  was  a  rope.  It  was  too  small  for  a  com- 
fortable grip  but  it  was  firm,  and  he  tightened  his 
clutch  as  the  grating  of  the  ships  upon  each  other 
made  its  way  even  through  the  roaring  in  his 
ears.  Swinging  in  their  shackles  they  had 
closed  more  and  more  the  space  up  which  he 
pulled  himself. 

The  rope  stopped  short  at  the  porthole  above. 
Just  beyond,  within  reach,  hung  the  rake.  He 
seized  it  exultantly ;  with  a  foot  in  the  port  he  drew 
himself  still  higher,  and  as  his  comrades  hurled 
themselves  from  the  abandoned  Rose  into  the 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  67 

rallying  mob  upon  the  Walrus's  deck,  he  was  among 
them. 

His  sword  was  gone,  his  pistol  wet  and  useless, 
Taut  as  he  sprang  forward  he  snatched  a  curved 
knife  from  a  fallen  enemy  and  pressed  close  into 
the  group  that  were  nearest  Captain  Phips. 

In  the  first  fury  of  the  attack  he  was  possessed 
by  nothing  but  the  rage  of  battle.  As  the  fight 
grew  more  terrible,  his  arm  more  deadly  quick  in 
thrust  and  parry,  his  double  consciousness  returned 
and  with  it  a  livelier  vision  of  the  contest.  He  felt 
the  shuddering  of  the  two  ships,  that  hung  twisting 
and  pulling  as  if  to  each  the  contact  was  loathsome. 
With  every  wrench  and  drag  at  the  manacles  that 
chained  them  they  seemed  to  writhe  more  closely 
together  and  finally  to  give  over  the  attempt  to 
part,  rolling  and  grinding  in  impotent  recoil. 

The  smoke  drifted,  sinking  ever  lower,  and  lay 
like  mist  on  the  waters  to  leeward.  The  waves 
piled  roughly  over  one  another,  driven  like  wild 
things  in  a  panic  before  the  ghosts  of  winds  just 
dead.  Above  the  hidden  reefs  the  breakers  foamed 
high  and  fell;  their  noise  could  not  be  heard  but 
their  frenzied  leaping  added  to  the  tumult  a  sinister 
glee.  The  distance  between  them  and  the  cum- 
brous wooden  craft  was  lessening. 

The  Rose  climbed  and  dropped  with  the  motions 
of  the  larger  ship,  and  Roger  knew  that  on  her 
deck,  broken  and  drenched  with  spray,  red  pools 
ran  back  and  forth,  mingled  in  paler  streams  with 
the  trickle  of  water. 

Beneath  his  feet  the  wet  planks  of  the  Walrus 
slipped  and  slid.  In  the  hand  to  hand  scrimmage 


68  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

new  sounds  added  themselves  to  the  horror.  The 
sound  of  steel  striking  steel,  of  blows  given  with 
fists  upon  yielding  substances,  of  knives  withdrawn 
from  flesh,  and  yet  for  the  lad,  as  before,  each 
sound  distinct  as  it  might  be,  close  in  his  ear,  made 
but  an  integral  part  of  the  hissing,  shrieking  melee. 

He  was  never  far  from  the  Captain  and  as  he 
pressed  nearer  he  was  all  the  time  aware  of  that 
central  figure,  terrible  in  strength,  tall,  powerful — 
driving  before  it  the  pirate  crew. 

'Spite  of  the  slaughter  of  the  guns  it  was  plain 
that  the  buccaneers  still  outswarmed  their  foes. 
Moreover  their  forces  seemed  always  augmenting 
and  every  addition  was  redoubtable,  savage,  a 
beast  of  prey  brought  to  a  stand  in  his  own  lair 
and  fighting  to  kill.  Yells  broke  from  them, 
gnashing  and  inarticulate  outcry  of  maddened 
brutes.  One  voice  was  loudest.  Drunk  with  rage, 
it  resounded  above  the  noise  of  battle: 

"  Follow  me  ! — On  'em  ! — For  Hell  an'  the  Lady  !" 

Had  the  lad  heard?  Did  the  imagined  words 
only  echo  what  the  voice  recalled  ?  He  had  no  time 
to  ask.  The  shouts  sank  into  growls,  to  oaths  of 
divers  languages  snarled  between  the  teeth.  The 
numbers  grew  more  nearly  equal.  The  men  of  the 
Rose,  old  and  used  to  war,  or  young  and  new  to  its 
reality  as  schoolmen  to  the  wilderness,  held  their 
own  close  upon  their  Captain's  advance  and  the 
victory  so  far  was  with  them.  All  at  once  for  the 
foe  appeared  unlooked-for  reinforcement  —  two 
black  men,  their  wrists  marked  by  the  sores  of 
their  chains,  their  faces  blotched  with  fury,  their 
eyes  distended  with  terror.  With  a  howl  horrid 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  69 

and  intimidating  they  leaped  at  the  foremost 
figure.  Running  amuck,  great  knives  in  either 
hand,  they  drove  back  the  invaders  by  the  very 
devilishness  of  their  aspect,  the  fear-crazed  vio- 
lence of  their  onrush. 

In  this  sudden  wavering  a  trumpet  call — the 
voice  of  Captain  Phips  above  the  pandemonium, 
the  voice  of  a  victor  mustering  to  the  pursuit : 

"  Forward  !     Don't  give  the  dogs  an  inch  !" 

Around  the  three,  from  both  sides  the  others 
rallied,  the  pirates  renewed  in  courage,  filled  with 
the  lust  of  carnage,  stabbed  by  the  horror  of  death ; 
the  followers  of- Phips  grimmer,  less  noisy,  showing 
the  discipline  of  the  King's  Captain  who  had  first 
built  ships  and  then  commanded  them.  On  the 
strong  features  of  the  New  England  men  a  hardness 
like  rock  petrified  the  grimness. 

With  the  sharpness  of  a  weapon  stroke  the  mem- 
ory of  the  white  hand  seen  at  the  port-hole  below 
pierced  the  absorption  of  Roger's  mind.  It  sent 
him  with  fiercer  will  upon  the  dire  recovery  of  the 
enemy. 

So  for  a  space  the  hewing  and  hacking  went  fear- 
fully on,  and  neither  gave  by  so  much  as  a  sword's 
breadth.  Then  a  thin  arm  of  light  reached  out  of 
the  west  and  fell  upon  the  Captain.  The  men  of 
the  Rose  broke  their  silence,  cheered  with  a  wild 
burst  of  sound  that  filled  the  twilight  with  a  glori- 
fied frenzy,  unearthly  as  the  battle  cries  of  gods. 
The  pirates  answered  with  a  forward  spring  upon 
the  very  bodies  of  their  foes, —  bodies  unyield- 
ing, rigid,  advancing  without  pause,  warding, 
driving,  killing,  as  they  moved.  The  eyes  of  the 


70  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

Captain  burned  steadily  against  the  light.  The 
two  black  men  were  down.  The  leader  of  the 
pirates  stooped  and  with  an  upward  thrust  struck 
at  the  Captain's  unprotected  side  under  the  up- 
raised arm. 

The  lad  was  quick  but  his  own  thrust  was  not 
near  enough  to  prevent  the  blow.  His  knife 
clashed  upon  the  pirate's  blade  that  turned  light- 
ning-like to  answer  him.  The  deep  chest  of  Cap- 
tain Phips  swelled  with  a  mighty  breath  and  with  a 
roar  he  charged  upon  the  remnant  of  the  savage 
pack. 

Roger  heard  and  knew,  would  have  followed, 
would  have  shouted,  but  sound  and  motion  failed 
him  and  he  fell;  and  as  he  fell  he  saw,  beyond  the 
bestial  clamour,  the  slaughter,  and  the  grewsome 
play  of  deadly  blows,  the  clouds  crack  in  radiating 
lines  from  the  horizon  and  the  yellow  sunset  light 
glow  visibly,  blinding  and  glorious,  across  the 
heaving  sea. 


CHAPTER  V 

ON    THE    SHIP    OF    THE    DEAD 

f   •  '^HE  waves  lifted  and  fell  in  gentler  agitation. 
"          The  moonless,   West    Indian    night    was 


1 


alight  with  stars  and  the  quick-breathing 
ocean  caught  them  in  the  smooth  cave  of  curling 
waves,  drowned,  lost  them,  and  brought  them 
forth  shining  more  clearly  for  the  brief  eclipse. 

The  Rose,  withdrawn  from  the  dangerous  spout- 
ing of  the  Boilers,  rocked  with  the  rocking  waters. 
Floating  slowly  nearer  and  nearer,  minute  by 
minute,  the  Walrus  gained  the  hidden  reefs. 

Roger,  stretched  upon  the  deck,  his  head  sunk  in 
the  folds  of  the  mate's  cloak,  opened  his  eyes  upon 
the  stars.  For  a  long  time  his  gaze  sought  the  silent 
comfort  of  the  sky.  The  night  brushed  gentle 
puffs  of  air  across  his  hot  forehead  and  burning  lips, 
and  at  length  he  drew  deeply  into  his  lungs  its  re- 
viving coolness,  and  cried  aloud  in  the  choking  cry 
of  unexpected  pain.  Slowly  he  lifted  his  hand  and 
felt  the  bandage  rudely  knotted  on  his  head. 

"Then  'twas  not  a  dream,"  he  said  half  aloud, 
half  within  himself. 

A  groan  near  at  hand  answered  the  muttered 
words. 

"Who  is  that?"  he  asked,  still  indistinctly. 

'Tis  me,  lad — Bill  Sparhawk.     Dost  mind  my 
grunting  ? ' '     The  phrases  came  in  spasms  mingled 

71 


72  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

of  oaths  and  loud- whispered  sighs.  "A  little  noise 
is  ease  to  pain.  " 

"Was  there  a  fight,  Bill?" 

A  chuckle  that  spluttered  into  a  choking  cry 
like  Roger's  was  the  response. 

Both  lay  still  and  the  chuckle  renewed  itself. 

"Listen,  lad — 'twas  a  Prodigy — 'twas  a  fight  of 

a  thousand  lifetimes.  'Twas "  The  choking 

voice  went  off  into  a  paroxysm  of  unconscious 
blasphemy,  searching  for  adequate  expression. 
"Why,  damn  thy  boots  with  me,  lad,  'twill 
make  the  Captain  famous  forever!" 

The  voice,  groaning  and  chuckling  by  turns, 
meandered  in  pleased  reminiscence,  monotonous, 
rising  and  sinking  like  the  waves.  Roger  heard  it 
as  he  heard  the  sea.  He  was  going  over  the  fray 
for  himself. 

Suddenly  he  cried  out  again  and  sat  up.  An 
invisible  hand  thrust  him  back,  scorching  his 
temples  with  a  white-hot  flame. 

"The  Captain!  Where's  the  Captain?"  he 

called  despairing.  "Where Did  they  get 

the  prisoner?" 

"Lay  still,  lad,  lay  still.  'Tis  often  so  with  fever.  " 
The  groans  ceased;  Sparhawk's  tones  bore  rough 
concern  in  the  command.  "  Lay  still,  lad.  " 

"The  Walrus?"  Roger  was  stirring  upon  the 
coarse  pillow,  striving  again  to  rise. 

"The  Walrus  '11  never  hurt  nothin'  more! 
Rest  easy " 

"  The  Captain  !  I  must  see  the  Captain  !"  The 
outcry  was  sharp  with  the  agony  it  cost.  "Cap- 
tain Phips !" 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  73 

"  Who  calls  the  Captain  ? "  A  light  moved  down 
from  the  shattered  poop  and  a  lank  figure  was 
discernible  by  its  gleam.  The  mate  bent  over  and 
held  the  lantern  closer  to  the  white  face  staring 
into  his  own. 

"  Is  it  delirious  the  boy '11  be  ! "  He  touched  the 
hot  forehead  below  the  bandages  and  wagged  his 
head  dolefully  as  he  straightened  himself. 

"I'm  not  delirious,  Maccartey.  Did  you  search 
the  Walrus?" 

"Aye,  lad,  and  no.  The  time  was  short  and 
she'd  'mazing  little  aboard  worth  the  saving — 
liquor  and  food  mostly.  I'm  thinkin'  she's  a 
hiding  place  for  treasure  somewhere  about  these 
islands.  She'd  be  after  starting  on  a  fresh  cruise 
maybe — or  smelling  out  our  gold  and  jewels — that 
we've  never  found. "  He  spoke  soothingly,  with 
a  hint  of  bitterness  in  the  humour  of  the  last  words. 
"She's  had  the  luck  she  deserved — no  less.  We  set 
the  match  to  fire  her;  she's  driftin'  on  the  Boilers. 
'Twill  be  a  merry  sight " 

"The  arm — Maccartey,  the  arm  from  the  port- 
hole! Did  you  find Did  you  save " 

The  lantern  swung  wildly  between  them  as  Roger's 
grip  tightened. 

"God  in  Hivin,  lad!  I  forgot  altogether." 
The  horror  in  the  mate's  voice  changed  instantly 
to  reassurance  as  he  tried  to  push  the  boy  back 

upon  the  deck.     "Quiet,  now 'Twas  but  a 

murderin'  pirate  !     And  'tis  too  late  for  fretting. 

The  world's  well  rid  of  the  lot.  Rest  now  and  sleep." 

"Sleep  !    I  tell  you,  Maccartey,  'twas  no  pirate! 

I  must  see  Captain   Phips. "     Roger  rose  to  his 


74  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

feet,  and  despite  the  urging  of  the  mate's  arm, 
maintained  his  place.  "Take  me  to  him,  Mac- 
cartey — now.  I  must  go.  " 

There  was  one  weak  spot  in  the  discipline  of  the 
Araby  Rose.  From  the  moment  when  Roger  had 
emerged  upon  the  deck  of  the  ship  clad  in  the  gar- 
ments of  Jacob  Munch,  Maccartey  had  loved  him 
as  devotedly  as  he  hated  the  surly  Jacob.  Anxiety 
made  him  pliant.  He  wound  one  sturdy  arm 
about  the  lad  and  took  half  his  weight,  helping 
him  across  the  newly  washed  deck  to  the  compan- 
ion hatchway. 

"The  Captain's  below,"  he  said  briefly,  "I'll 
call  him. " 

"Take  me  to  him."  Roger's  feet  were  already 
on  the  ladder. 

"Pore  lad — 'tis  the  fever,"  repeated  Spar- 
hawk  to  himself,  and  again  his  groans  merged  into 
profanity  so  violent  that  the  watch  silenced 
him. 

"Cap'n's  at  work.  Shet  up,  can't  ye!"  he 
shouted  angrily. 

The  skylights  were  open  above  the  Captain's 
head.  The  lantern  with  the  glass  window  was  set 
upon  the  table  and  threw  its  glow  across  the  chart 
whereon  was  pricked  off  daily  the  tale  ef  their 
empty  soundings  among  the  reefs.  Bottles  and 
spice  boxes  were  marshalled  beside  it  and  the 
pewter  tankard  waited  the  end  of  labour.  The 
frown  that  usually  followed  the  grievous  record 
of  long  failure  was  less  deep  to-night.  One  danger 
the  fight  had  lessened — for  the  time.  Men  are 
not  quick  to  mutiny  under  a  victorious  Captain. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  75 

"  Here's  Roger,  Captain  Phips — says  he  must 
speak  with  ye. " 

The  Captain  sat  leaned  forward  in  his  great 
chair,  his  wounded  side  eased  away  from  the  hard 
arm,  his  eyes  fixed  thoughtfully  upon  the  parch- 
ment. 

At  the  mate's  voice  he  looked  up,  his  smooth 
face  wrinkling  in  surprise  that  sharpened  quickly 
to  alarm.  The  boy  was  white  to  ghastliness,  save 
where  a  streak  of  red  had  been  imperfectly  sponged 
from  his  temple.  The  effort  had  turned  him 
blind  and  his  own  words  seemed  to  come  from  far 
spaces,  and  sounded  faintly  in  his  ears  in  a  forceless 
tinkle. 

"There  is  a  prisoner — a  child  or  woman,  alive 
on  the  Walrus,  Sir.  We  saw  it — an  arm  through 
the  port — Maccartey  and  I " 

"I  forgot — with  so  many  wounded  to  patch  up. 
I  forgot  entirely  and  altogether,"  broke  in  the 
mate.  *'  But  'tis  too  late  now.  " 

The  Captain  had  risen.  His  look  Maccartey 
had  seen  before. 

"The  boat!  And  pray  God  you're  not  a  mur- 
derer!" he  commanded  fiercely.  "I  give  you  two 
minutes !" 

With  his  left  arm  he  supported  the  lad  to  a 
bench  nearest  the  door  and  brought  brandy  swiftly. 

The  boy's  lips  wetted  themselves  and  moved.    . 

"You'll  not  go,  Captain.  You  must  not  go. 

Maccartey  and  I "  The  attempt  ended  in 

silence  and  he  swallowed  again  a  mouthful  of  the 
cordial,  trying  to  pull  himself  upright.  "  I  thought 
— it  was  he — of  the  wharf — the  Lady " 


76  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

He  had  dropped  limply  and  struggled  for  what 
seemed  an  eternity  of  wretched  dreams  before  he 
found  again  both  sight  and  speech.  The  repul- 
sive presence  of  Fangs  was  beside  him  and  miser- 
able trickles  of  water  ran  into  his  eyes  as  he  tried 
to  look  beyond  the  ape-like  figure  and  discover 
where  he  was. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  he  demanded  curtly, 
dashing  aside  the  fresh  stream  of  water  that  blind- 
ed him. 

"Sopping  yer  head  to  bring  ye  to — Cap'n's 
orders, "  answered  the  man  offensively,  his  grin 
incarnate  of  a  mean  dislike. 

Roger  did  not  listen.  Remembrance  had  seized 
upon  him.  Fangs'  replies  to  his  question  were 
wild  and  confused.  It  was  evident  the  fellow 
had  plied  himself  freely  with  the  Captain's 
brandy.- 

"Terr'ble  pretty — cabin  !  Don't  have — s'  fine — 
'n  fo'c'stle  !  Sure  death  !  Drink  all — sure  death 
to  Cap'n  an'  mate  of  — Araby  Rose. " 

He  had  poured  himself  more  from  the  half- 
emptied  bottle  and  leered  at  the  prostrate  lad  as 
he  started  to  gulp  it  down. 

The  toast  was  arrested  undrunk,  the  liquor  swam 
among  the  fragments  of  the  glass. 

"On  deck — on  deck — you  blasphemous  scoun- 
drel  Go ! " 

Roger  was  on  his  feet.  Rage  lent  a  fictitious 
strength,  and  the  mutinous  sot  was  cowed.  He 
obeyed  muttering. 

"Little  more — 'zertion — kill  ye — Cap'n  said, 
'Keep  'im  quiet.'  I  say,  'Let  'im  go.'  One  more 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  77 

out    of    way.     Cap'n — mate — lad.     Too    much — 
gentleman — f 'r  our — business — th'  lad  ! " 

The  mumbled  words  conveyed  nothing  to  Roger. 
He  was  attempting  to  reach  the  ladder.  As  he 
grasped  it  the  pain  grew  fiercer  and  he  bit  his  teeth 
through  his  lips  as  he  drew  himself  from  step  to 
step.  More  than  once  his  hands  relaxed  their 
hold  and  his  body  rested  inert,  face  downward, 
upon  the  steep  incline,  but  the  draught  from 
above  brought  him  each  time  to  his  senses,  to 
greater  effort  and  sorrier  pain.  The  stars  looked 
down  upon  him  and  he  pulled  himself  higher  in  a 
well  of  darkness  that  seemed  deeper  as  he  strove. 

In  the  boat  the  men  were  at  first  silent.  The 
sailors  rowed  doggedly.  The  Captain  neither 
moved  nor  spoke. 

"If  the  slow  match  stayed  alight  the  ship  is 
now  afire. "  It  was  the  mate's  protest,  distinct 
only  to  the  Captain's  ear.  'Tis  a  risk  the  com- 
pany'11  not  thank  ye  for  runnin',"  he  added 
boldly. 

"The  Company's  not  a  fool — like  thee !  Had  I 
not  come,  thyself  had  prayed  me  for  the  boat. 
Hold  thy  peace,  man!"  The  Captain  said  no 
more.  The  mate  became  again  the  under  officer, 
sailorwise,  respectfully  waiting  on  the  motions  of 
his  superior. 

The  waves  tossed  and  then  engulfed  them,  and 
as  they  rose  skyward  or  dropped  away  into  the 
hollows,  their  ship  grew  more  and  more  remote, 
the  twinkle  of  her  lamp  oftener  quenched  than 
seen. 


78  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  growing  turbulence  of  the  water  showed 
that  they  neared  the  reefs.  The  oars  wavered  as 
the  shouting  of  the  breakers  broke  full  upon  the 
hearing.  The  Captain  felt  the  slackening  before 
the  stroke  was  finished. 

"For  your  lives — pull!"  he  yelled  above  the 
roar.  "  Pull  for  the  Walrus!  We'll  make  it  yet ! 
All — together — pull ! " 

The  lost  instant  was  regained.  The  boat  thrilled 
to  the  fervour  of  the  rowers.  With  Captain  Phips 
to  drive  the  warm  blood  through  their  sluggish 
veins  worse  men  would  have  dared  worse  odds. 

It  was  not  the  Walrus  they  wanted;  it  was  the 
Araby  Rose.  But  for  the  time  not  a  soul  of  them 
remembered  his  own  will.  Each  wrought  his 
utmost,  wreaked  his  full  strength  upon  the  weight 
that  balked  his  blade,  and  before  he  knew  whither 
his  frantic  struggle  bore  him,  he  looked  up  at  a 
sombre  shape  towering  colossal  in  the  night — 
the  Walrus — licked  already  by  flecks  of  foam 
thrown  from  the  hungry  rocks. 

She  was  keeled  a  little  toward  them  and  in  her 
shrouds  were  strange  shadows  of  the  dark.  The 
Boilers  shrieked,  flinging  the  whiteness  of  their 
spray  far  up  to  shine  against  the  blackness  of  the 
sea  beyond.  Upon  the  great  ship  was  silence  and 
the  moving  shades  born  of  men's  eyes  that  look 
with  fear.  Nothing  else  but  a  thin  curl  of  smoke, 
faint  and  dimly  guessed,  that  crept  upward  along 
a  crippled  mast. 

The  mate  pointed. 

"It's  myself  will  go,"  he  cried,  "ye  shall  not 
risk " 


THE  COAST   OF   FREEDOM  79 

The  Captain  put  him  aside. 

"Where  was  the  port?" 

"Below  our  bows — somewhere  aft — but  on 
which  side — — " 

"This — of  course,  where  we  grappled.  " 

The  voices  made  an  indiscriminate  roar  with 
the  sound  of  the  waves.  The  boat  plunged 
frightfully,  shipping  the  crests  of  billows  churned 
up  by  the  wallowing  of  the  wreck. 

The  rope  still  hung  from  the  porthole. 

"Gedge — here.     Climb  and  look  in." 

"Not  into — a  ship — full  of  corpses!"  The  man 
cowered  away  from  the  Captain's  order.  "May- 
hap— a  witch — flung  out  the  rope.  " 

Gedge  was  of  lighter  build  than  the  others. 
Captain  Phips  left  to  Maccartey  the  tautened  line, 
and  lifting  the  fellow  beneath  his  arms,  held  him. 
The  mate  steadied  the  boat,  as  best  he  might,  by 
the  hanging  cord,  and  swung  upward  the  lantern 
to  the  man  whose  terrified  features  glimmered 
above  him.  The  Walrus  was  sunk  so  low  that  as 
the  boat  was  carried  higher  by  the  swell,  Gedge's 
eyes  stared  straight  at  the  round  black  hole 
whence  the  rope  depended. 

At  the  moment  when  he  would  have  raised  the 
lantern  to  its  level,  the  ship  heeled  still  farther, 
lying  over  heavily  to  the  breeze,  and  the  dead- 
light slammed,  closing  in  his  face.  The  man's 
teeth  chattered. 

The  boatswain,  who  with  Maccartey  had  fastened 
a  staunch  grip  upon  the  rope,  loosed  his  hold  and 
the  hull  of  the  vessel  slid  past  them  as  the  wild 
chanting  of  the  breakers  woke  to  new  violence 


8o  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

under  the  wind.  The  pirate  ship  was  moving 
faster  on  the  rocks. 

The  second  attempt  proved  futile  like  the  first. 
The  man  held  the  lantern  with  the  blaze  full  in  his 
own  face  and  the  light  shook  as  he  held  it. 

"  'Tis  empty,"  he  panted. 

"Look  again."  The  Captain's  grasp  clamped 
him  like  a  vice. 

"There's  nothing — Captain  Phips — 'fore  God — 
let — me — down — my  ribs — are  breaking,  "  he 
shrieked.  "  Let  me — down.  " 

"Cast  up  the  grapple."  The  Captain  had  re- 
leased the  trembling  Gedge.  The  grappling  line, 
coiled  under  a  thwart,  was  dragged  forth  and  his 
own  hand  threw  it  swiftly,  catching  the  hook  upon 
the  bulwarks. 

"Ye'll  not  go  now,  Captain!  Whoever  'twas 
is  among  the  dead  by  this. "  The  sailors  heard 
the  mate's  pleading. 

"We'll  not  wait — she's  sinking,"  they  yelled 
responsive. 

The  Captain  turned,  the  scorn  in  his  furious 
command  putting  some  heart  into  their  craven 
bodies. 

Maccartey  had  pressed  resolutely  forward, 
ready  to  ascend.  He  fell  back  at  the  Captain's 
gesture  of  denial  and  laid  hold  upon  the  rope 
that  steadied  them  to  the  ship.  His  right  hand 
snatched  a  weapon  from  his  belt.  The  boatswain 
was  again  at  his  post,  his  sinewy  fingers  fast  upon 
the  dragging  cord. 

As  the  Captain  went  over  the  rail  and  the  men 
loosened  their  clasp  upon  the  grappling  line  to  pass 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  81 

upward  the  lantern  upon  a  cleft  stick,  Gedge, 
flung  into  the  brine  at  the  bottom  of  the  boat, 
moaned  aloud  with  dread.  No  voice  rose  above 
the  bulwarks  of  the  Walrus.  Grim  terror  settled 
below  as  the  Captain  disappeared. 

On  the  deck  the  blackness  and  the  loud  mockery 
of  the  Boilers  seemed  the  entrance  to  the  devil's 
dwelling.  Of  men  living  in  1686  there  was  no 
Christian  of  them  all  to  whom  ghosts  and  witches, 
the  Devil  and  his  evil  angels,  embodied  and  dis- 
embodied, were  not  as  real  as  the  thunder  and  the 
wind,  and  infinitely  more  feared  ashore  or  afloat. 

The  sweat  stood  on  the  Captain's  body  and 
dripped  from  cheeks  that  were  no  longer  ruddy. 
As  he  hurried  on  his  way  among  the  stark,  open- 
eyed  and  staring  dead,  his  lantern's  gleam  fell 
now  on  grins  infernal,  now  on  scowls,  and  once 
upon  a  face  dull,  inexpressive,  with  great  orbs 
glaring  fixed  and  awful  upon  his  going.  One  head 
in  the  moving  shadows  seemed  to  turn  to  follow 
him  as  he  went.  The  real  danger,  the  fire,  the 
Boilers,  the  peril  of  some  half-strangled  pirate's 
having  revived,  ready  to  spring  upon  him  from  the 
dark  shades  at  the  mouth  of  the  companion  way, 
none  of  these  took  such  hold  of  the  man  who  was 
too  brave  to  think  of  fear  while  fear  faced  him 
and  duty  was  undone  as  the  gruesome  thought 
of  the  dead  crew  coming  in  the  guise  of  their  devil- 
protected  spirits  to  reanimate  the  corpses  once 
their  habitation;  and  as  he  groped  below,  slipping 
in  a  clot  of  blood  or  stumbling  upon  a  body  still 
warm  from  the  vital  spark,  peering  through  the 
thickening  smoke  he  looked  most  fearfully  for  that 


82  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

hag  of  hell  so  dreaded  of  our  fathers,  the  witch, 
who  might  torture  even  the  absent,  and  whose 
pact  with  the  unspeakable  Sathanas  gave  her 
power  above  mortals  to  slay,  to  disfigure,  to  twist 
and  destroy  body  and  soul  alike.  What  place 
more  fit  for  Hell's  own  minions  than  a  pirate  ship  ? 
But  why  turn  against  her  master  to  throw  a  rope 
to  the  enemy?  A  lure — to  draw  him  from  his 
allegiance  to  the  Company  and  keep  him  from  the 
treasure ! 

He  stopped  short.  The  low  beams  shut  down 
above  his  head.  The  water  guggled  in  the  hold. 
He  had  half  wheeled  when  he  remembered  the 
sharp  rents  "  'twixt  wind  and  wave"  and  the 
hasty  patching.  The  ship  was  sinking — fast.  The 
actual  danger  but  hardened  his  courage.  Raising 
his  lantern  high,  he  spied  about,  examining  in  haste 
every  cubby  and  turn  as  he  moved  onward. 

Sure  enough,  in  the  place  where  the  porthole 
should  be  was  a  cabin,  but  the  opening  was  fast 
closed,  the  port  screwed  tight  in  its  rim. 

"  'Twas  this  or  next  to  this. "  His  own  voice 
crept  back  to  him,  echoing  in  the  dead  air. 

No  further  door  gave  egress  from  a  cabin. 
Puzzled,  he  returned  swiftly  to  the  first.  The 
thought  of  witch  work  laid  cold  hands  upon  him 
once  more,  but  even  in  the  grasp  of  the  super- 
natural his  shrewd  eyes  again  explored  the  bare 
interior,  and  with  a  bound  he  rushed  at  the  bulk- 
head. The  door  he  had  not  earlier  discovered 
trembled  under  his  knocking. 

He  shouted. 

The  shout  came  back  to  him  in  dismal  groans; 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  83 

the  Walrus  listed  farther  and  the  steady  inrush  of 
water  gurgled  underneath  his  feet.  His  flesh 
crawled  as  the  groaning  answers  multiplied  about 
him.  No  voice  but  his  own  among  them  all ! 
The  door  broke  before  his  blow  as  though  its 
panels  had  been  of  glass. 

His  motions  seemed  clogged,  the  time  intermin- 
able, till  through  the  murk  he  once  more  groped 
and  stumbled.  The  merry  crackling  of  wood 
greeted  him  as  he  strove  to  regain  the  ladder. 
Somewhere  a  light  played  fitfully.  The  close  air 
was  hot  upon  his  face,  the  smoke  terrible,  hindering 
his  breath.  As  he  struggled  higher  there  came  to 
him  a  rustling  near  at  hand,  the  frightened  scurry 
of  rats  over  the  dead. 

In  the  current  that  drew  across  the  hatchway 
he  would  have  paused  to  fill  his  lungs,  gathering 
strength  for  the  final  strain,  but  a  meaning  sound 
that  followed  drove  him  on.  Blinded,  he  made  a 
staggering  progress  among  the  lifeless  obstructions 
that  blocked  his  path.  The  smell  of  scorching 
leather  rose  stiflingly  about  him.  Rallying  all 
his  force,  he  would  have  moved  faster,  rushing 
forward  on  the  steep  incline.  But  the  way  was 
barred;  breaking  through  the  heated  planking  of 
the  deck  had  burst  the  pursuing  flame. 

Below  in  the  boat  the  mate  had  answered  the 
Captain's  shout.  Like  the  men  he  had  fett  cer- 
tain it  was  but  a  cry  for  help  and  when  no  other 
followed,  hope  had  died  in  his  soul. 

Mutiny  had  grown  with  every  waiting  second. 
Nor  was  the  danger  all  a  superstitious  dread. 
The  Walrus  sank  so  rapidly,  the  rope  by  which  they 


84  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

held  had  momently,  it  seemed,  to  be  shortened 
in  their  grasp.  The  fire  might  reach  the  maga- 
zine; for  that  the  fuse  had  been  arranged.  The 
breakers  thundered  ever  nearer;  at  any  instant  the 
ship  might  strike  the  rocks  and,  plunging,  draw 
them  after  too  swiftly  for  escape. 

Maccartey  waited,  rigid,  a  pistol  in  either  hand. 
In  the  bow  a  fallen  figure  nursed  a  wounded  arm, 
the  boatswain,  who  a  second  time  had  dropped 
the  saving  cord.  Now  the  very  height  and  frenzy 
of  unreasoning  rage  was  upon  the  men — fear, 
animal,  awful.  Even  the  pistols  would  not  con- 
trol them  long. 

With  the  smoke  came  despair.  Its  cloud 
settled  slowly.  Soon,  Maccartey  knew,  his  aim 
would  go  wide,  would  fail.  He  saw  the  glare  with 
which  his  captives  watched  him,  heard  the  ravings 
with  which  they  bided  ruthlessly  the  shelter  of  a 
starless  dark. 

He  would  not  go  till  the  last  hope  was  spent. 
The  boat  pitched  desperately.  The  Walrus  settled 
with  grim  haste  to  cheat  the  breakers  of  her  death. 
The  cloud  dimmed  his  smarting  eyes,  but  he  could 
feel  the  movement  as  one  man,  worst  raver  of  them 
all,  rose  for  his  leap.  When  the  shot  sounded  the 
wretch  plumped  backward,  shrieking.  A  howl 
came  upon  the  fall,  the  howl  of  madness  accom- 
plished, madness,  Maccartey  knew,  that  no  voice 
but  one  could  tame,  no  weapon  intimidate. 

He  had  faced  death  before.     He  faced  it  now, 
valiant,  invincible,  one  hand  again  grasping  the 
rope,  the  other  ready  on  his  remaining  pistol. 
*      Once  more  he  called  aloud,   a  shout  full  and 
vigorous : 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  85 

"Captain  Phips  !" 

And  once  more  the  jovial  breakers  broke  glee- 
fully upon  the  wasted  cry. 

Roger  came  to  himself  rolled  close  under  the 
starboard  bulwarks.  Of  his  painful  progress  from 
the  cabin  he  had  no  memory;  his  whole  conscious- 
ness was  a  devouring  fear. 

Dragging  himself  up  by  a  belaying  pin  stuck  in 
the  rail,  he  watched.  When  the  lantern  ascended 
the  side  of  the  Walrus,  he  saw  the  shadowy  hint 
of  light  waveringly  mount  upon  the  distant  black- 
ness that  was  the  pirate  ship.  Gradually  his 
thoughts  cleared;  the  wetness  sopped  upon  his 
head,  cooled  by  the  breath  of  the  night,  eased  the. 
throbbing  and  tightened  the  pressure  of  his  anxietyn 

Hour  after  hour,  unseen,  he  waited.  More  thah 
once  he  thought  it  was  all  over  and  for  a  fool  is 
tale  he  had  slain  his  Captain.  In  reality  it  was 
not  so  many  minutes  as  to  him  it  seemed  hours, 
but  as  the  time  lengthened,  his  misery  was  to  be 
measured  by  no  reckoning  known  of  man.  Hour 
after  hour,  and  still  no  light  had  descended  from 
the  sinking  ship;  hour  after  hour  and  no  sign  of 
life  upon  the  sea ! 

The  smoke  grew  plain  to  his  straining  eyes, 
smoke  and  then  the  flame,  a  little  flame  that 
flickered  lightly  here  and  there,  growing,  rising, 
catching  upon  the  full  spread  of  the  canvas  that 
gave  the  Walrus  cruelly  to  the  play  of  every 
breeze,  lines  and  traceries  o.f  light,  spelling  out 
upon  the  gloom  the  end  of  hope. 

Yet  hope  lived.  The  time  had  been  so  long. 
The  Captain  could  not  fail. 


86  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Then — the  whole  ocean  bright  in  an  unreal  glory 
and  a  pyramid  of  fire  flung  up  suddenly,  incredi- 
bly, into  the  night — lofty,  terrible  as  a  portent, 
louder  in  its  rage  than  the  far-off  noise  of  waves 
upon  the  rocks — a  glare  fierce,  intolerable  ! 

And  quick  upon  its  coming,  shouts,  from  the 
Rose  and  from  the  water,  wilder  than  wave  or 
flame,  exulting — call  answering  call  across  the 
glittering  sea ! 

"  I'll  lift  her  up  the  ladder  ! "     Maccartey  spoke. 

"No."  The  Captain  held  to  what  he  carried, 
mounting  stiffly,  slowly. 

The  men  hung  over,  crowded  about,  and  startled 
murmurs  grew  to  cheers,  and  then  hushed  ques- 
tions, and  then  to  cheers  again,  as  Captain  Phips 
stood  at  last  in  the  enclosing  ring. 

The  unconscious  burden  that  he  bore  in  his 
arms  showed  the  lovelier  for  the  rough  faces  press- 
ing near  to  see. 

"They'd  locked  her  in.  Poor  little  maid!" 
The  Captain  looked  down  gently.  "Who  called 
to  me?"  he  a'dded.  His  eyes  searched  the  group. 

Roger  came  forward  from  the  shelter  of  a  boat, 
where  he  had  waited,  walking  as  one  whom  joy 
had  made  alive. 

'Tis  you — safe! "  he  cried  in  a  fervour  of  relief, 
and  the  big  Captain  smiled,  first  at  him  and  then 
at  the  maid  who  still  lay  white  and  piteous  in  his 
arms.  Her  slender  throat  and  black  hair,  blowing 
softly  in  the  silent  winds,  made  even  more  fragile 
the  pale  transparency  of  the  face.  Italian  Manuel 
crossed  himself,  thinking  of  some  pure  saint  he 
had  seen  carved  on  her  own  tomb,  but  as  the 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  87 

Captain  smiled  she  opened  on  them  eyes  wide  and 
dark,  and  in  the  great  blaze — the  death  fires  of  the 
Walrus — that  lighted  all  the  deck,  she  saw  first 
the  lad  and  then  the  down-bent  kindly  meaning 
of  the  Captain's  gaze,  and  with  a  long  sigh  bubbling 
softly  from  lips  that  curved  too  grievingly  for 
her  fair  years  she  slipped  again  into  the  darkness 
of  her  dream,  and  heard  not  the  thrill  and  clangour 
of  the  voices  that  hailed  her  wakening  and  sped 
the  passing  of  the  pirate  ship. 


CHAPTER  VI 

PIECES   OF    EIGHT 

"  f  I  ^OO  sharp — too  much  rocks  !"  The  Indian 
diver  shook  his  head.  The  men  rowing 
JL.  growled  and  muttered.  The  low  tide  fret- 
ted upon  hidden  barriers  rising  steeply  from  the 
bed  of  the  sea. 

Roger  felt  the  weary  oppression  of  their  fruitless 
labour  grown  insupportable. 

The  Little  Maid  sat  listlessly  in  the  bow  of  the 
recovered  periagua,  where  she  had  been  placed  at 
starting.  Her  mournful  eyes  had  hardly  left  the 
water.  The  same  unremembering  apathy  in  her 
pale  features,  in  the  absent  droop  of  her  body,  in  the 
expressionless  gentleness  of  her  replies. 

It  was  Roger  who  had  proposed  that  she  accom- 
pany them. 

"  'Twill  perhaps  cheer  her, "  he  had  said.  And 
Captain  Phips  had  forthwith  given  the  word.  The 
assent  of  the  Maid  was  certain.  She  assented  to 
everything.  Her  own  will  seemed  lost  with  the 
loss  of  memory  and  desire.  She  had  settled 
quietly  upon  the  seat,  unresisting,  without  interest, 
thanking  Roger  with  pretty  courtesy  as  he  arranged 
a  cloak  for  cushion,  and  had  fallen  straightway 
into  silence  and  remoteness.  In  all  the  hours  she 
had  scarcely  moved.  Now,  as  the  Indian  spoke 
she  raised  her  eyes. 

"Too  sharp — too  much  rocks  !" 

88 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  89 

"Shut  up,  and  down  with  ye,  ye  black  devil. 
In  ye  go !" 

The  mate's  tone  rang  with  undaunted  energy. 
Roger  felt  a  sudden  admiration  of  the  man's  in- 
trepidity. A  mutinous  Indian  and  a  crew  ripe 
for  revolt  might  yet  be  controlled  by  a  tone  so  as- 
sured. Revolt  was  certain,  not  to  be  wondered  at 
nor  prevented.  Long  day  after  long  day  till  it  was 
month  after  month,  in  hot  rain  and  hotter  shine, 
the  periagua  had  lain  among  the  rocks,  the  Indians 
had  buried  themselves  in  the  nauseous  brine,  seek- 
ing, seeking,  what  they  never  found. 

"An  old  man  at  Port  de  la  Plata  forsooth!" 
The  men  growled  scornfully.  "An  old  man  in- 
deed!" And  again,  "Who  was  to  prove  that  the 
old  man  was  not  in  good  truth  an  old  liar  as  well  ? 
Who  could  say  after  fifty  years  where  the  galleon 
had  sunken,  or  what  she  had  had  aboard  ?  'Known 
the  spot '  had  he — cursed  old  dotard  !  Better  take 
the  Rose  and  get  good  treasure  where  the  Spaniard 
doubtless  got  her  own — with  a  new  captain  and 
no  soft-headed  fools  for  masters  !" 

So  Fangs,  going  up  and  down  among  his  fellows, 
made  ready  for  the  right  moment.  His  tongue 
was  an  eloquent  one;  his  wiliness  set  him  above 
the  others  in  a  strength  surer  than  their  lustier 
thews.  Well-hinted  revenges  of  his  evil  past  kept 
them  in  subjection.  He,  too,  looked  at  the  Indian, 
thinking  rapidly.  This  was  not  his  choice  of  a 
day,  but  the  mate  and  the  boy  could  be  ended  here 
as  well  as  elsewhere.  It  might  be,  after  all,  as 
good  a  time  as  another.  The  Maid  he  would  have 
to  save.  The  men  were  superstitiously  set  upon 
the  Little  Maid. 


9o  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  Indian  faced  Maccartey  without  further 
speaking.  The  copper  surface  of  his  spare  body 
shone  wet  and  polished  in  the  noonday  light.  His 
eyes  returned  the  mate's  angry  stare  unmoved. 
He  had  folded  his  arms. 

It  was  the  moment.  Fangs  unclosed  his  fingers 
from  the  oar  to  give  the  signal.  It  was  then  the 
Little  Maid  spoke. 

"Will  you  get  me  a  sea-feather,  Nopomuk?" 
The  dark  eyes  were  raised  to  the  diver's.  His  look 
turned  downward  to  meet  its  gaze.  The  Maid 
smiled  askingly.  The  first  voluntary  words,  the 
first  smile  since  they  had  found  her  in  her  prison 
on  the  Walrus.  The  words  were  no  longer  ex- 
pressionless. The  smile  woke  a  glow,  a  tremor, 
in  those  that  looked. 

Suddenly,  as  in  a  revelation,  the  sense  of  her 
beauty  smote  the  lad.  He  neither  breathed  nor 
stirred,  nor  did  his  voice  join  the  murmur,  half 
spoken,  half  a  sigh,  that  rose  from  the  men;  but 
always  after  that  day,  Roger  Verring,  at  a  word, 
an  odour,  the  sound  of  breakers,  the  sight  of  curling 
foam,  was  back  among  the  tenantless  reefs  and  saw 
the  calm  monotony  of  the  midday  sky,  the  white 
frothing  of  the  angered  waves,  the  far  blue  beyond, 
and  against  it  all  the  radiance  of  that  child  vision 
in  the  bow  of  the  periagua.  Strong  upon  a  heart 
tenacious  and  passionate  always  had  come  the 
charm,  potent,  untranslatable,  of  the  smile  of  the 
Little  Maid. 

The  mate  had  dropped  an  upraised  lash.  The 
hand  of  Fangs  closed  again  upon  his  oar.  The 
Indian's  look,  mournful  like  the  girl's,  lightened  to 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  91 

meet  the  smile.     He  said  something  in  his  own 
language. 

Then  he  poised  himself  on  the  gunwale  and 
watched  his  chance  as  the  tide  carried  them  leisurely 
in  the  current  between  two  growing  banks  of  foam. 
The  air  was  still ;  the  surface  of  the  channel  smooth. 
Beneath  them  the  broken  outlines  of  the  reef 
showed  clearly,  and  the  branching  plumes  waving 
from  their  foothold  on  the  rocks.  The  gay  colours 
glinted  through  the  translucent  green.  Above  the 
fairest  tuft  the  Indian  shot  forward,  down — van- 
ished. The  spreading  ripples  covered  him. 

The  mate  looked  at  Fangs  and  asserted  himself 
gruffly. 

"  'Twas  well  for  him.  I'd  whaled  the  red  skin 
of  him  into  ribbons,  "  he  commented. 

"I  think  he  was  a  prince  in  his  own  country." 
The  Little  Maid  spoke  again,  but  she  did  not  take 
her  eyes  from  the  water. 

"Well,  he's  a  slave  now,"  Maccartey  answered, 
more  amiably.  "I'm  not  sorry  thou  putt'st  in  thy 
word.  I  take  no  joy  in  the  beating.  'Tis  a 
straight  fight  pleases  me. " 

The  men  moved  the  oars  lifelessly  to  steady  the 
boat.  They  showed  neither  curiosity  nor  interest 
in  the  quest.  But  now  and  then  a  pair  of  eyes 
lifted  to  the  Little  Maid.  Her  gaze  still  held  to 
the  place  where  Nopomuk  had  disappeared.  He 
had  been  gone  a  full  minute,  hidden  by  the  foam 
banks. 

The  hope  that  lay  far  down  beneath  the  indiffer- 
ence of  the  men  rose  once  more  to  the  surface. 
They  peered  over  the  boat's  edge  craning  and 


92  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

waiting.  Roger  alone  was  left  of  those  who 
watched  the  Little  Maid,  and  he  did  not  know  that 
he  watched  her.  In  the  instant  when  she  had 
looked  out  of  the  prisoned  deeps  of  her  forgetful- 
ness,  he  had  seen  the  reality  of  her,  seen  her  as  she 
had  been;  and  tenderness  and  fury  fought  within 
him,  for  the  sense  of  her  dearness  and  the  sense  of 
all  she  had  endured.  Of  her  beauty  he  was  now 
barely  conscious,  as  of  the  instrument  that  makes 
the  music.  Of  herself  he  was  possessed  mightily, 
the  true  self,  hidden,  mysterious — lovable,  indi- 
vidual, of  the  Captain's  Little  Maid. 

So  Roger  dwelt  upon  the  Maid,  and  the  men 
peered  and  waited,  and  among  them,  thus  peering 
and  waiting,  the  diver  ascended  gasping,  laid  hold 
on  the  boat  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other 
stretched  forth  a  dripping  trophy,  a  sea  plume 
glistening  with  drops  and  fairer-hued  than  rain- 
bows. 

The  Maid  reached  out  her  hand,  speaking  again. 
An  angry  groan  drowned  her  voice,  drowned  too 
the  voice  of  the  Indian  who  answered. 

Roger  had  heard  but  one  word — "guns" — and 
that  he  dared  not  repeat  lest  he  had  not  heard 
truly.  Nopomuk  had  grasped  the  gunwale,  but 
when  they  looked  for  him  to  clamber  to  his  place, 
he  dropped  again  out  of  sight. 

A  certain  stir  in  the  impassivity  of  his  face  had 
communicated  itself  to  Maccartey's.  The  men 
caught  the  look  and  bent  again  to  watch,  once  more 
craning  and  leaning  so  that  the  boat  toppled 
dangerously.  The  seconds  went  by.  The  sailors 
stirred  one  by  one  and  settled  again  to  the  oars. 
They  turned  no  longer  to  look  at  the  Maid. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  93 

"  Tis  a  fine  task  for  grown  men,  hunting  nosegays 
in  the  sea, "  sneered  Munch  under  his  breath. 
His  stealthy  eyes  shot  an  angry  glance  at  Roger. 
Why  should  Roger  Verring  be  happier  than  he, 
Jacob  Munch? 

The  Little  Maid's  gaze  had  gone  back  to  the 
water.  Roger,  who  was  steering,  saw  an  exclama- 
tion escape  her  lips.  The  dark  body  of  Nopomuk 
had  risen  through  the  soapy  foam  and  was  striking 
out  for  the  boat.  As  he  drew  nearer,  rigid  with 
endurance,  his  breath  taken  quickly  in  relief,  the 
crew  cursed  and  spat  toward  the  upturned  face. 
Oaths,  denunciations,  hissed  viciously  together  in 
a  sudden  revealing  rage.  Gedge  raised  an  oar  to 
strike.  Fangs,  wrinkled  to  hideousness  in  the 
moment  of  decision,  made  the  signal  gesture  of 
slaughter.  But  the  men  did  not  see. 

Gedge's  oar  had  dropped.  The  cry  of  the  mate 
trumpeted  in  the  face  of  the  placid  sky. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  Maid.  In  her  look 
interest  had  waked.  She  swayed  a  little  forward  to 
hear  the  answer. 

The  Indian  lifted  higher  the  heavy  block  he  had 
brought  up  in  his  left  hand  and  tossed  it  to  Mac- 
cartey.  As  the  yells  exploded  about  his  head  his 
eyes  gleamed,  and  when  his  look  fell  on  the  girl  it 
relaxed  into  something  almost  responsive. 

"Maid — bring  Rose  luck,"  he  said  briefly. 

Roger's  cheeks  burned.  The  crew  had  fallen 
upon  the  bar,  feeling  it,  shrieking  over  it;  Manuel, 
weeping,  praying,  blaspheming,  by  turns,  had 
kissed  it. 

"Give  it  here."     Maccartey  had  seized  an  iron 


94  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

hook,  and  as  he  regained  the  prize  he  struck  from 
one  corner  the  crusted  lime  and  shells  in  which  it 
was  encased.  The  pure  glint  of  silver  came  upon 
the  stroke. 

Yells  again — oaths,  ascriptions,  howls  of  joy 
went  up  in  the  frenzy  of  the  shock.  Hope  strang- 
ling in  defeat,  raised  all  at  once  to  the  height  of 
certainty.  Rough  embraces  crushed  to  the  point 
of  breaking  Nopomuk's  slender  ribs;  rapturous 
blows  fell  not  lightly  on  his  shoulders. 

The  periagua  was  headed  for  the  Rose,  cleaving 
the  waters  with  the  speed  of  ten.  Behind  her  a 
buoy  floated  over  the  grave  of  the  Spanish  galleon, 
the  sea  plumes  nodding  gaily  beneath  as  the  empty 
cask  bobbed  and  turned. 

"How  did  you  find  it,  Nopomuk?"  The  men 
questioned  as  they  rowed.  Nopomuk  answered 
in  solemn  phrases. 

"  One  time — dive — see  guns.  "  He  held  up  three 
fingers.  "  Down — down — deep.  Come  up.  Dive 
two  time — no  breath. "  He  made  a  sign  as  of  a 
weight  upon  his  chest. 

"Are  there  more?"  The  men  were  listening, 
silenced  to  hear.  "More  like  this?"  demanded 
the  mate. 

The  Indian  spread  both  arms  and  drew  them 
slowly  forward  as  if  striving  in  vain  to  gather  into 
their  compass  an  untold  mass. 

Cheers  interrupted  the  gesture,  jubilant,  frantic, 
loud  as  the  shout  of  cities  when  bells  ring  for  vic- 
tory. Faces  blazed,  irradiated  with  excitement. 
Even  Jacob  Munch  smiled  greedily  upon  the  cap- 
tured bar.  Roger's  mind  had  leaped  straightway 
to  the  Captain. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  95 

"I  knew  it,"  he  shouted,  unconscious  of  his 
words.  "I  knew  he  couldn't  fail!"  but  the  shout 
was  lost  in  the  others,  and  his  face  clouded  as  his 
gaze  came  back  to  the  Little  Maid. 

She  was  withdrawn  again  into  the  shadow,  more 
remote,  more  lost  to  all  human  approach,  than 
ever.  But  a  strange  disturbance  followed  into 
her  mournful  silence,  and  though  Roger  could  not 
see,  tears  waited  beneath  the  downcast  lids  and 
choked  the  breathing  in  the  slender  throat. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE    AWAKENING 

"  The  leaves  of  memory  seemed  to  make 
A  mournful  rustling  in  the  dark. " 

CAPTAIN  PHIPS  had  scraped  from  the  bar 
more  of  the  crust,  cut  from  the  shining 
mass  within  a  shred,  and  carefully  tested 
it.  In  his  own  cabin,  where  the  trophy  had  been 
brought,  he  looked  doubly  heroic  of  mould,  but 
through  his  huge  frame  now  there  went  a  slight 
trembling  as  of  the  deeps  when  the  wind  is  strongest. 

Through  the  open  ports  the  sea  showed  bravely 
blue,  the  inshore  blue  of  the  Captain's  eyes.  His 
wig  he  had  thrown  aside,  and  as  he  looked  he  ran 
his  hand  through  his  short,  thick-grown  locks  and 
sighed  unconsciously,  the  sigh  of  a  weight  relaxed. 
A  sharp  breath  answered  the  sigh.  His  gaze  left 
the  sea  and  searched  about  him  quickly. 

"So — my  Little  Maid!  And  what's  oppressed 
thee,  child?" 

The  girl  had  waited  at  the  threshold,  her  whole 
body  drinking  in  the  Captain's  joy,  her  eyes  strain- 
ing intently  upon  his  face.  Though  she  had  been 
quiet  in  a  mute  isolation  that  shut  her  from  dis- 
plays of  tenderness,  her  fragility,  the  wanness  not 
yet  gone  from  her  look,  the  appallingness  of  her 
lonely  state,  and  most  of  all,  her  strange  and  utter 
forgetting  of  the  past,  had  wrought  upon  all 
who  saw  to  draw  from  each  a  gentler  homage. 

Save  for  Munch,  none  had  spoken  irreverently, 

96 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  97 

or  jested,  or  teased  her,  and  always  as  he  appeared 
she  had  shrunk  to  the  side  of  her  nearest  friend. 
This  shrinking  had  roused  the  coarseness  of  him 
to  revenge  so  that  his  mouth  had  twice  been  closed 
by  blows  for  his  half-muttered  words. 

She  came  slowly  forward,  the  tempered  shine 
from  the  skylight  and  the  stronger  glow  from  the 
ports  full  upon  her  white  face  and  straining  eyes. 
The  straight  figure,  finely  set  together,  spite  of  a 
coltish  slimness,  had  a  new  meaning  to  the  Captain, 
its  every  motion  informed  by  a  definite  person- 
ality— the  Maid  herself  emerging  from  the  vague- 
ness in  which  she  had  been  hid. 

She  was  dressed  still  as  a  child,  though  a  few 
more  seasons  would  work  sudden  transformation, 
hurrying  childhood  at  a  leap  past  girlish  years 
into  forced  young- womanhood,  the  transformation 
of  netted  hair  and  long  skirts,  exaggerating  the 
reserve,  the  trim  sedateness,  of  grown-up  models. 
Now  the  blight  of  that  age-compelling  change 
had  not  touched  her;  even  the  blight  of  a  long 
misery  that  had  revolted  nature  itself,  destroying 
memory  and  leaving  her  defenceless  of  traditions, 
had  made  no  difference  in  an  unconscious  sim- 
plicity, a  childlike  directness.  She  was  still  a  little 
maid. 

From  the  hour  of  her  rescue  until  now  no  ques- 
tioning had  waked  in  the  mournful  eyes.  At  first 
she  had  asked  for  a  woman  "to  help  me  dress," 
and  looked  puzzled  when  it  appeared  there  were 
no  women  in  the  world  of  the  Araby  Rose,  but  she 
had  striven  patiently  alone  with  what  the  Captain 
could  provide,  and  kept  herself  daintily. 


98  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Once  as  she  slept  upon  the  cushioned  bench 
within  the  Captain's  cabin  (she  slept  much  in  the 
earliest  days)  the  Captain  had  laid  his  hand  upon 
her  head,  touching  it  gently  and  wondering  at 
the  exceeding  softness  of  the  dark  hair  that  lay 
never  smoothly  and  ringed  itself  upon  his  fingers 
at  the  touch. 

The  child  had  stirred,  without  unclosing  her 
eyes,  and  spoken  in  a  voice  new  to  his  ears. 

"Uncle, "  she  had  called  him  in  a  drowsy  under- 
tone full  of  gay  and  childish  content.  "I  knew 

thou'd  not  forget "  She  had  struggled  to 

raise  herself  a  little  and  fallen  back,  sleep-weighted, 
upon  the  hard  square  of  her  pillow.  "Good — 
night — Uncle " 

But  she  had  waked  unremembering  and  he  had 
laid  stern  orders  upon  the  men  that  none  should 
trouble  her. 

"Hurry  her  not,"  he  had  commanded.  "She 
is  worn  with  the  captivity. " 

Now  as  he  saw  her  startled  eyes  a  certain  fear 
grew  in  him  at  the  sight.  Her  hands  were  pressed 
one  above  the  other  upon  her  chest  as  if  to  crush 
down  a  terrifying  commotion.  At  his  voice  tears 
shook  from  her  lids  and  slipped  in  a  thick  rain  down 
her  cheeks. 

She  tried  to  speak,  pressed  the  small  hands  closer, 
stilling  the  rising  tumult  of  the  breath.  Her  gaze 
clung  to  him  pleading  like  that  of  a  lost  animal, 
asking  what  her  lips  could  not  utter. 

"What's  amiss,  Little  Maid?  Art  on  the  Araby 
Rose  with  stout  defenders.  Naught  can  harm 
thee, "  he  answered  to  the  look. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  99 

"The — pirates?"  The  words  came  stifled  with 
the  striving  for  calm. 

"  Dead.  All  dead  and  gone.  Not  one  can  ever 
come  back  to  hurt  thee,  child. "  The  Captain 
moved  toward  her.  His  face,  florid  by  inheritance, 
browned  darkly  by  the  sea,  softened  to  a  still 
greater  gentleness. 

The  Maid  read  reassurance  in  the  look,  but 
she  stepped  backward  as  if  to  escape  it. 

"  Be  not — kind.  If  thou'rt  kind,  I  shall  weep —  " 
she  said  gaspingly,  her  eyes  holding  to  him  through 
her  tears  that  fell  the  faster. 

She  had  put  out  her  hand  for  the  door  frame, 
gripping  its  edges  with  her  slight  fingers,  and  as 
she  clasped  it  her  body  quivered,  fighting  a  gallant 
and  unequal  battle. 

The  Captain's  cabin  was  in  the  poop  and  opened 
upon  the  main  deck,  where  part  of  the  excited 
crew  went  chattering  and  joking  about  their  work, 
a  jovial  humour  swamping  for  the  time  their  sullen 
disaffection.  The  ballast  was  being  shifted  to 
make  room  for  the  first  harvest  of  the  treasure. 
The  sails  had  been  set  to  carry  the  ship  nearer 
the  workers  in  the  periagua. 

Fangs,  angered  at  being  left  behind  in  the  change 
of  men,  did  not  chatter,  and  as  he  passed  the  cabin 
he  gave  to  the  slender  figure  just  within  a  glance 
of  dull  malevolence.  Captain  Phips  saw  the  look. 
His  own  crossed  it  and  the  man's  eyes  went  snakily 
back  to  the  deck.  The  Captain  pushed  the  girl 
softly  upon  a  stool  and  swung  the  door  to  screen 
her  from  without. 

Her  face  buried  itself  in  the  shelter  of  her  arms, 


ioo  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

and  her  frailness  was  wrung  and  broken  by  such 
suffering  as  cut  lines  deep  into  the  smooth  face 
of  the  watcher. 

After  a  little  he  came  nearer  and  once  more  rested 
his  great  hand  lightly  on  the  dusky  hair. 

The  child  lifted  her  head,  laying  hold  on  the 
rough  fingers  with  both  hands,  tightening  her  grasp 
at  the  sound  of  her  own  voice,  in  the  forlorn  ap- 
peal of  the  helpless. 

"  'Tis  only — that — I  remember,  "  she  said.  Her 
words  were  low  but  they  came  clearly.  "How 
did  you  find  me?  Where  was  I?" 

"  In  a  cabin  on  the  Walrus,  "  he  answered  simply. 

She  unloosed  the  clasp,  raising  her  hands  to  push 
the  hair  from  her  forehead  and  gazing  up  at  him 
in  sudden  trembling. 

"Where  is  the  Walrus?" 

"Burned." 

She  tried  to  get  upon  her  feet,  staring  upon  him 
still,  with  horror  fixed  in  her  eyes,  in  the  toneless 
rigidity  of  her  voice. 

"  It  was  my  story  that  he  told  me — mine.  You 
went  into  a  burning  ship — at  night — alone — with 
dead  men — to  get  me " 

Reason  seemed  gone  from  the  fixed  eyes,  from 
the  voice,  unnatural,  without  inflections. 

"Who  told  thee  that  tale?"  The  Captain's 
hands  closed  tightly;  a  savage  light  flamed  in  his 
face. 

"Jacob  Munch."  The  voice  gave  a  little  from 
its  awful  monotony,  but  the  eyes  stared  still.  "  He 
looked  at  me — queerly,  and  watched  me.  I 
thought  it  was  to  make  me  angry — but  'twas  to  see 
if  I  remembered. " 


THE  COAST  OP  FREEDOM  101 

Strong  shuddering  came  upon  her  and  her  hands 
opened  and  shut  upon  themselves  pitifully. 

The  Captain  turned  swiftly  aside  to  his  little 
cupboard  for  a  bottle  and  a  leathern  cup. 

"Steady — there.  Steady,  my  Little  Maid — " 
he  said  anxiously,  leaning  down  to  hold  the  cup 
closer.  "  'Tis  all  over.  Art  safe  now  for  all  thy 
life. "  Under  his  brows  rage  still  burned  darkly, 
but  a  soothing  gentleness  spoke  in  the  comforting 
certainty  of  his  tone,  in  the  very  bend  of  his  great 
frame. 

She  drank  obediently,  unresisting,  and  shut  fast 
her  lips  that  trembled  sorely  upon  each  other,  her 
forehead  pressed  against  his  hand  to  which  she  clung 
again,  her  sobbing  breath  catching  and  strangling 
in  her  throat;  and  the  valiant  fight  for  self-com- 
mand, renewed  with  all  her  shaken  force,  seemed 
to  Captain  Phips  a  thing  of  wonder  and  of  pity. 

Minute  by  minute  she  grew  calmer,  holding  to 
her  protector,  listening  to  his,  "Steady — steady 
now,"  calmest  of  all  when  he  said  nothing;  and 
when  he  had  made  her  drink  again  he  lifted  her 
and  laid  her  on  the  cushioned  bench,  folding  over 
her  with  quiet  deftness  a  heavy  blanket.  Then  he 
waited  beside  her,  the  slender  fingers  still  clasped 
upon  his  own,  until  he  felt  the  faint  pulse  in  the 
wrist  beat  with  a  fuller  stroke;  and  when  he  knew 
she  slept,  he  slipped  away  and  left  her,  setting 
Roger  to  guard  the  door,  lest  noise  awake  her. 

"An*  she  be  not  crazed  'twill  be  no  fault  of  that 
villain  Munch,"  he  added  to  his  order.  "Let  him 
not  near — nor  any  other.  If  she  wake,  speak 
comfortably  as  if  naught  were  strange. "  But  he 


loz  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

himself  remained  ever  within  call,  fearing  the 
waking. 

Then  the  Araby  Rose  grew  silent,  orders  no  longer 
shouted  but  passed  below  the  breath  from  mouth 
to  mouth.  Men  moved  like  figures  in  a  vivid 
pantomime  against  the  line  of  the  bulwarks  and 
the  plane  of  the  unchanging  blue.  A  sorry  fear 
was  on  them,  the  Captain's  fear,  told  in  Maccartey's 
words  and  written  in  the  Captain's  face. 

"She  hath  remembered — and  the  shock  may  kill 
her, "  they  muttered,  whispering  as  they  went  and 
came,  scowling  anxiously  upon  the  creaking  sails, 
angrily  at  the  unconscious  ocean  as  the  long  un- 
dulations rattled  the  cordage  above  their  heads. 

But  it  was  not  for  the  body  the  Captain  most 
greatly  feared. 

The  hour  wore  on  in  the  hush  of  a  waiting  that 
made  a  tenseness  in  the  air  about  the  cabin  where 
the  child  still  slumbered;  another  hour  began,  and 
the  men  in  the  periagua,  delving  hot  and  thirsty 
beneath  the  unclouded  sky,  paused  in  their  joyous 
labour  to  wonder  why  the  Rose  that  had  kept  ever 
near  at  hand  ran  far  out  beyond  the  reefs  without 
a  tack  or  change,  and  never  a  moving  of  her  un- 
handled  sails. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    LITTLE    MAID 

"  f  •  ^HEY  are  not  my  real  aunt  and  uncle, "  the 
1  Maid  began  quickly, "but  'tis  with  them 
-*"  I  went  to  the  Carolinas. " 

She  had  resisted  the  Captain's  gentle  admoni- 
tion that  she  sleep  again.  "  I  remember.  Let  me 
tell  you,  "  she  had  pleaded. 

It  was  mid-afternoon.  The  sun's  rays  had 
slanted  more  and  more  upon  the  Rose  when  the 
child  had  opened  bewildered  eyes  upon  the  Cap- 
tain's cabin.  There  was  nothing  extraordinary  in 
the  trim  furnishings  of  the  place,  but  the  silver  bar 
still  stood  upon  the  shelf-like  table  let  down  by 
swinging  brackets,  and  at  the  sight  of  it  the  colour 
had  risen  to  her  face  and  she  had  sat  up  with  an 
unevenly  taken  breath,  fixing  on  Roger  the  look 
with  which  she  might  have  regarded  a  stranger. 
Her  unconscious  scrutiny  had  been  so  searching 
that  the  lad  had  smiled  gently,  unable  to  bear  with- 
out a  change  of  muscle  the  energy  of  her  exploring 
gaze. 

"  Where  is  my  Uncle  Amory  ? "  she  had  asked  at 
length,  encouraged  by  the  friendliness  of  the  smile. 

Now,  as  she  talked,  Roger  saw  that  the  same 
look  dwelt  upon  the  padlocked  chest,  the  gray 
blankets  of  the  Captain's  bunk,  the  picture  of  the 
Mayflower  tacked  above,  and  knew  it  for  the  look 
of  one  who  questions  unfamiliar  things. 

103 


io4  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

After  a  little  the  wandering  ceased  and  her  eyes 
scarce  left  the  Captain's  face,  seeming  to  find  there 
no  strangeness  but  a  certain  courage  for  her  words. 

"What  is  thy  uncle's  name?"  Captain  Phips 
gave  matter-of-fact  attention  to  the  clearing  of  a 
long-stemmed  pipe. 

"Richard  Amory. "  The  child's  hands  fastened 
to  the  edge  of  the  cushioned  bench,  and  her  eyes 
clung  tenaciously  to  the  face  of  the  commander  of 
the  Rose. 

"And  the  plantation?  Where "  The  Cap- 
tain had  lighted  the  coarsely  broken  tobacco  and 
settled  himself  upon  the  chest,  motioning  Roger 
to  the  stool  beside  the  door. 

"At  Charleston."  The  child's  breath  was  still 
uneven.  "  By  the  Ashley  river — and  the  Cooper.' ' 

"  I've  seen  the  old  town,  not  the  new.  "  Captain 
Phips  looked  up  from  his  pipe.  "  Was't  in  the  new 
thy  uncle  settled?" 

"Yes."  She  clasped  her  hands  tightly  in  her 
lap,  her  gc.ze  never  moving  from  her  questioner. 
"  It  was  very  beautiful.  Aunt  Charlotte  was  afraid, 
but  we  liked  it,  Uncle  Amory  and  I — to  see  the 
wild  things — and  the  water — and  not  to  grow  up 
so  soon. "  The  voice  broke  a  little  and  the  hands 
clasped  each  other  more  tightly  yet.  "Uncle 
Amory  would  have  it  I  might  forget  to  sit  upon  his 
knee  when  I  grew  up — and  my  Aunt  Charlotte,  she 
too  liked  me  not  to  get  older — though  she  called 
me  'mad-cap '  and  '  romp '  for  being  so  much  without 
the  house.  "  The  dark  eyes  had  filled  but  they  held 
their  tears,  refusing  to  let  them  fall. 

"When  was  it  they  took  thee  to  the  Carolinas?" 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  105 

The  Captain's  tone  helped  to  ease  the  struggle. 
She  waited  but  an  instant,  beginning  bravely  after 
the  pause.  ' 

"  'Twas  when  my  father  died.  It  was  sad  in 
England.  Uncle  Amory  and  Aunt  Charlotte  lived 
with  us  there.  It  was  my  mother's  wish — that  we 
be  less  lonely. " 

"Thy  father  and  thy  mother  be  both  dead  and 
thy  Uncle  Amory  thy  guardian?" 

"  He  is  my  guardian  for  the  care  of  all  I  have — 
but  my  Aunt  Amory,  Aunt  Charlotte,  hath  the 
charge  of  me  as  well.  She  loved  my  mother — 
and  Uncle  Amory  and  my  father — they  were  like 
dear  brothers — he  could  not  bear  to  stay  in  Eng- 
land after "  Her  voice  stopped  often  and  she 

trembled,  but  each  time  the  effort  was  renewed, 
a  resolute  will  shining  in  her  eyes.  "  His  steward 
was  set  to  care  for  my  home.  Uncle  Amory's  own 
lands  are  close  by  Danesleigh  Wold. " 

The  Captain  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth  and 
seemed  about  to  speak,  but  he  glanced  into  the 
bowl  as  if  to  see  that  it  was  still  alight,  and  replaced 
it  in  silence. 

"  It  was  lovelier  there — than  in  the  Carolinas.  I 
never — forget " 

Captain  Phips  knocked  the  pipe,  live  coals  and 
all,  with  a  comfortable  sound  on  the  edge  of  the 
chest  and  went  about  to  fill  it  with  some  bluster. 

"Was  it  from  Charleston  they  kidnapped  thee?" 
he  asked,  as  if  he  inquired,  "  Didst  thou  raise  pota- 
toes?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered  swiftly.  "I  was  with 
Uncle  in  the  fields  and  a  planter  came  past  upon  a 


io6  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

splendid  horse.  There  were  few  in  Charleston — 
and  my  Uncle  loves  dearly  a  good  horse.  While 
they  talked  I  went  a  little  away — it  was  not  far —  to 
the  edge  of  the  oaks.  I  was  jumping  for  the  moss. 

It  hung  so  low  I  thought "  Her  hands  held 

desperately  to  each  other  and  a  shivering  took  her 
as  her  voice  ran  hurriedly  along.  "A  man — like 
an  Indian  (but  he  was  not  an  Indian)  seized  me.  I 
tried  to  cry  to  Uncle,  and  he  was  talking  there  so 

near — I  could  hear  what  he  was  saying "  The 

slender  fingers  were  knotting  and  unknotting  upon 
one  another. 

"Did  the  man  blindfold  thee,  child?"  Again 
the  Captain's  voice  gave  her  courage.  The  fingers 
unlocked  their  grip  and  she  went  on  steadily. 

"There  were  two;  one  came  after  the  other  had 
thrown  something  over  my  head.  That  was  why  I 
could  not  cry  out — loud — and  they  carried  me 
away  hastily.  And  I  could  not  hear  Uncle's  voice 
any  more.  By  and  by  we  were  in  a  boat.  Then 
they  talked. " 

"Couldst  hear  what  they  said?"  The  Captain 
interrupted  with  some  eagerness. 

"They  were  talking  about  me."  She  leaned 
forward  on  the  cushioned  bench,  a  feverish  colour 
warming  her  cheeks,  her  eyes  dilated  with  remem- 
brance. Roger  insensibly  bent  nearer,  absorbed 
and  waiting.  The  wrath  he  had  felt  on  the  London 
wharf,  a  thousand-fold  hotter  now,  devoured  him. 

"One  of  them  would  have  killed  me  and  taken 
my  scalp  there  in  the  swamp.  'They'll  lay  it  to 
the  Indians  and  'twill  make  us  safe',  he  said,  but 
the  other  would  not.  I  could  not  understand " 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  107 

Her  face  had  grown  white  again.  Her  words  came 
in  thick-breathed  phrases.  "For  when  one  pushed 
me  with  his  foot  the  man  who  would  have  killed  me 
swore  at  him.  '  Remember  the  witch  ! '  he  screamed 
out  as  if  affrighted.  '  'Tis  for  all,  the  curse,  if  the 
pledge  be  broken. '  Why  did  he  fear  to  have  me 
hurt  if  he  would  kill  me  ?  I  could  not  understand.  " 
Roger  leaned  still  nearer,  a  fierce  intentness  in  his 
attitude.  "The  one  who  had  kicked  me  swore 
terribly — '  When  ye  serve  the  Devil,  why  care  for 
a  witch  ? '  he  said,  and  he  sneered,  laughing.  '  We've 
got  the  Sea  flower.  What's  promised  over?  A 
rotten  hundred  !  I'd  not  seen  the  wench  when  I 
took  the  pledge.  She'll  bring  more  in  the  Indies — 
and  a  murder  the  less  on  your  soul !  And  mayhap 
the  hundred  into  the  bargain  ! ' ' 

She  repeated  the  speech  of  the  ruffians  monoton- 
ously as  words  said  over  to  herself  many  times  be- 
fore. 

"That  man,  the  one  who  would  sell  me  for  a 

slave "  She  spoke  again  in  her  natural  voice 

— "he  was  their  Captain.  They  called  him  the 
'Lady'." 

"It  was  he!  I  was  sure  of  it!"  She  shrank, 
startled  at  Roger's  low  exclamation.  "What  did 
they  with  the  Seaflower?  "  he  demanded  impulsively. 

"  Twas  sunk  when  they  took  the  Walrus,"  she 
answered,  watching  him  fearfully  as  if  wondering 
at  what  he  said. 

He  had  drawn  back  contritely.  The  Captain 
replied  to  the  wordless  question. 

"  The  lad  saw  the  rascal  in  London  and  knew  him 
for  a  scoundrel,  and  the  master  of  the  Seaflower. 


io8  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

He'll  tell  thee  of  it  later, "  he  interpolated,  soften- 
ing the  frown  he  had  turned  on  Roger,  as  he  saw 
the  lad's  evident  distress. 

The  child's  gaze  had  gone  back  to  Captain  Phips. 

"  He  was  worst  of  all — he  was  cruel "  Roger 

looked  indignantly  at  the  Captain.  How  could 
he  let  the  girl  go  on  if  the  telling  of  her  story  cost 
her  such  suffering !  But  William  Phips  was  wise. 
The  sooner  the  tale  were  told,  the  sooner  she  would 
forget. 

"And  when  took  they  the  Walrus? " 

"I  cannot  tell,"  she  replied,  perplexedly.  "It 
seems  a  long  time  ago.  We  sailed  among  some 
islands  first  and  more  of  their  men  came  on  board. 
There  were  a  great  many  of  them.  But  the  Walrus 
was  so  big — I  was  sure — sure — she  would  take  me 
away " 

The  Captain  moistened  his  lips.  He  spoke 
quietly,  in  a  lower  pitch  than  he  had  used  before. 

"I  knew  Anthony  Blount.  He  was  master  of 
the  Walrus, "  he  said. 

"  They  killed  him  !  They  killed  them  all.  The 

Lady  was  very  drunk "  The  child's  voice 

failed  utterly.  There  was  a  little  silence,  then  she 
began  again  at  some  point  to  which  her  memory 
had  progressed. 

"After  that  I  would  not  go  on  the  deck  where  I 
must  see  them,  though  the  Captain  was  more  kind 
— and  noticed  me  more  often.  Sometimes  he 
would  lay  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder, "  she  shud- 
dered. "I  feared  him — he  was  so  cruel.  Then  a 
sailor  named  Witherly  locked  me  in  my  cabin  and 
brought  me  my  food  himself.  Always  when  he 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  109 

came  he  said  'Thou'rt  safe  here,'  but  he  was  the 
man  who  would  have  killed  me  and  he  looked  at  me 
strangely.  Yet  I  dreaded  him  not  so  much  as  the 
other.  I  felt — truly — safer.  I  could  no  longer 

hear  the  dreadful  talking — their  words .  And 

I  wondered  if  the  witch's  curse  kept  away  the 
Lady.  I  prayed  God  to  bless  the  witch. " 

The  lad's  look,  half  amazed,  half  admiring,  dwelt 
upon  her  earnestly.  The  Captain  shook  his  head. 

"Never  speak  well  of  the  minions  of  Satan, 
child,"  he  said  with  sternness.  "Never  speak  well 
of  witches. " 

The  girl  looked  at  him  soberly.  If  she  pondered 
his  reproof  she  did  not  answer,  and  he  rose  from  his 
place  and  cast  an  eye  at  the  sails,  touching  her 
lightly  with  silent  deprecation  as  she  went  on. 

"After  that — after  they  took  the  Walrus  I  could 
not  cry,  and  then  I  could  not  sleep.  It  was  all 
dreams.  I  could  not  think  or  feel  at  all  even  when 
I  prayed.  I  talked  a  great  deal  to  myself.  I 
thought  there  were  two  of  myself.  And  sometimes 
one  was  a  slave,  and  one  was  dead  and  in  Heaven — 
and  the  one  that  was  a  slave  would  beg  the  other 
to  take  her  away,  but  she  mocked  and  would  not. 
I  thought  the  witch  was  there — and  I  pleaded — on 
my  knees — and  the  man  that  sent  the  pirates 
sneered.  And  I  saw  Uncle  and — Aunt — and  they 
wept  a  great  deal  and  went  calling  me — everywhere 
— and  when  I  cried  to  them  the  pirates  laughed 
and  shouted  so  they  could  not  hear. "  Her  tones 
had  dropped ;  the  Captain  bent  far  forward  to  catch 
the  words.  "  Sometimes  I  saw  them — Uncle  Amory 
and  Aunt  Charlotte — and  they  laughed  and  were 


no  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

merry — and  that  was  worst  of  all,  till  I  kept  falling 
— and  the  rats  came.  One  I  loved.  He  was  a  little 
one  and  would  let  me  feed  him  crumbs.  I  used  to 
store  them  for  him.  But  I  feared  them  at  night — 
and  I  had  no  light — I  dared  not  sleep  then  if  I 
could.  So  it  went — so  long — so  many  nights " 

Roger  turned  his  face  away.  Something  of  the 
softness  of  youth  had  gone  out  of  it.  Captain 
Phips  again  filled  the  pause.  The  sound  of  his 
voice,  homely  and  friendly,  changed  her  terrified 
stare  to  a  look  less  dreadful. 

"  'Tis  July  now,  Little  Maid,  the  nineteenth  day. 
Canst  remember  when  they  stole  thee  ? " 

"  'Twas  the  planting  time.  " 

"And  how  came  it  to  thee  to  drop  the  rope  to 
Roger?" 

Her  eyes  sought  the  lad's  face  and  rested  there 
with  something  of  his  own  intentness. 

"  'Twas  a  little  rope — tied  to  a  ring  in  the  floor,  " 
she  said  musingly  as  if  seeking  some  link  forgotten. 
"There  were  four  rings,  but  only  one  rope."  A 
light  flashed  into  her  face  and  she  spoke  more 
rapidly.  "When  another  ship  came — I  would 
have  thrown  it — though  I  thought  it  was  but  an- 
other dream — so  they  could  come  and  get  me — but 
something  happened.  The  other  ship  kept  moving 
away — and  after  that  I  knew  nothing.  It  was  like 
a  sleep — save — once  I  woke,  in  a  great  silence  and 
heard  water  trickling — I  thought  they  were  going 
to  drown  me — all  alone  in  the  dark —  The 

Captain  drew  a  breath  most  like  a  sob.  Roger's 
hands  were  clinched  deep.  His  face  was  haggard 
like  the  child's.  "I  screamed — and  then  I  felt 


THE   COAST   OF   FREEDOM  in 

Mamma's  arms  around  me — and  she  spoke  to  me — 
'  My  foolish  little  one,  what  can  frighten  thee  when 
I  am  here,'  she  said.  And  when  I  opened  my  eyes 

— here — on  this  ship — I  thought  to  see  her " 

The  Captain  would  have  spoken  but  his  voice  did 
not  come  at  his  bidding.  "You  never  knew  her — 
or  my  father  —  in  England?"  She  looked  up 
eagerly  at  the  Captain,  who  had  risen.  He 
moved  restlessly  and  there  was  a  huskiness  in 
his  answering  question. 

"What  was  thy  father's  name,  Little  Maid?" 

"Francis — and  so  is  mine — but  with  an  e. 
There  was  no  man  left  to  bear  it,  so  they  gave  it  to 
a  girl.  Some  day — when  I  am  grown — I  shall  go 
back  to  Danesleigh  and  see  my  father's  people  and 

be  their  queen  as  Mamma  was "  She  gazed 

straight  before  her,  neither  at  Roger  nor  the  Cap- 
tain, but  into  some  far  away  future  that  brought 
strength  and  purpose  into  the  delicate  face. 

"Is  it  very  large,  Danesleigh?"  The  Captain 
had  stopped,  absently  turning  the  silver  bar  in  his 
hand,  his  eyes  not  long  from  the  Maid. 

"Very — very  large.  You  can  drive  many  hours 
and  never  see  the  highway,  but  not  so  grand  as 
Kilby  West  where  we  went  for  the  hunting.  Some- 
times the  King  came  there.  But  it  was  too  far 
from  London  for  a  home,  my  father  said.  " 

"And  hast  thou  no  relatives,  none  to " 

She  shook  her  head,  her  eyes  filling  again. 

"  Not  any  one,  "  she  answered  in  a  kind  of  passion 
of  loneliness.  "No  one  but  a  cousin  and  him  my 
father  hated. " 

"What  is  the  cousin's  name  ? "  The  Captain  had 
laid  the  bar  back  upon  the  shelf. 


ii3  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"Gregory  Bellingham. "  A  look  of  repulsion 
was  on  her  face.  "  I  wish  he  had  not  my  father's 
name — and  mine.  " 

Roger  had  flushed  darkly,  but  this  time  he  held 
himself  in  check. 

"Thou  hast  seen  him  often?" 

"I  have  never  seen  him — not  since  I  was  too 
little  to  remember.  He  did  not  come  to  Danes- 
leigh. " 

"And  the  name  of  my  little  maid  is  Frances — 
Frances  Bellingham  ? "  The  Captain  spoke  the 
words  softly. 

She  caught  her  breath;  the  tone  was  too  kind. 
Her  "yes"  came  half  falteringly.  "But  Uncle 
Amory  had  many  names  for  me,  a  new  one  for 
every  day,  Aunt  Lotta  said.  Sometimes  't  was 
'Little  Worthless."  She  smiled,  tremulously. 
"  Will  it — will  it  be  long  before  I  see  them  ? " 

She  put  up  her  hands  to  the  Captain  and  he 
clasped  them  in  his  rough  palms,  drawing  her 
gently  to  her  feet. 

"  'Twill  not  seem  long,"  he  answered.  "And 
thou  wilt  trust  me  to  take  thee  to  them  ?  I  have 
no  little  maid  to  call  me  father  and  so  I  have  much 
time  and  strength  to  give  to  this  one  that  I  found.  " 
There  was  nothing  of  the  gallant  Phips  that  jested, 
stepping  aside  for  some  great  lady's  train,  noth- 
ing of  the  courtier,  about  his  words.  He  spoke 
truly,  with  the  tender  chivalry  of  childless  men, 
for  whose  childlessness  the  world  is  gainer,  and  the 
girl  believed  him.  But  the  face  of  the  lad  was 
sober  unto  grief.  Her  sufferings  were  still  upon 
him,  and  the  load  was  heavy. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  113 

"Soon  we  will  gladden  the  heart  of  thy  Uncle 
Amory — and  thy  good  Aunt,  "  the  Captain  went  on 
cheerfully.  "  And  that  will  be  very  joyful.  Mean- 
time we'll  be  merry — will  we  not?" 

She  nodded,  her  eyes  glowing  under  their  wet 
lashes,  her  face  transformed  with  hope. 

"And  every  day  we'll  thank  God  that  sent  us  our 
Little  Maid  to  make  the  voyage  shorter.  Wilt  be 
queen  of  the  Araby  Rose  till  thou  com'st  to  thy 
own  people?  I  fear  me  thou'lt  be  a  very  great 
tyrant ! "  The  Captain  shook  his  head,  the  mois- 
ture in  his  own  eyes  softening  the  mischief  of  the 
last  words. 

She  nodded  again,  almost  gaily. 

"Thou'lt  see,"  she  said. 

"  One  thing  we  must  not  do,  "  the  Captain  added 
soberly.  "We  must  not  tell  any  other  of  thy  true 
name.  Canst  promise  that?"  He  looked  from 
the  girl  to  Roger,  who  stood  near  but  a  little  to  one 
side,  lest  he  intrude  himself.  The  lad's  expression 
had  broken  into  warmth  and  light  at  the  change  in 
hers. 

"And  one  more  thing  thou  must  do."  The 
Captain  was  still  serious,  his  gaze  upon  the  up- 
turned face  of  the  girl.  "My  Little  Maid  must 
hear  to-morrow  why  Roger  knew  of  the  Seaftower, 
and  she  must  not  let  it  make  her  sad. " 

Her  look,  grown  wistful  again,  was  smiling  when 
he  finished. 

"So  many  musts  for  a  queen!  'Tis  thou  art  a 
tyrant!"  and  as  she  spoke,  laughter,  caught  still 
with  tears,  the  pure  upwelling  laughter  of  a  child, 
rippled  softly  from  the  cabin. 


ii4  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Maccartey  pacing  with  nervous  strides  the  con- 
stricted space  of  the  deck  above  heard  it,  and 
muttered  with  incoherent  rapture;  and  the  men, 
watching  as  the  Captain  came  forth,  looked  upon 
his  face  and  knew  that  all  was  well. 


CHAPTER   IX 

MUTINY   AND    AN   OMEN 

TIS  lucky  for  Captain  Phips  he  hath  a  crew 
of  silly  old  women  ! "  Gedge  dropped  his 
end  of  the  knobbed  and  curious  weight 
swung  aboard  from  the  deep-laden  periagua  and 
kicked  it  shufflingly  as  he  spoke. 

The  day's  dredging  was  ended.  Already  the 
hold  of  the  Araby  Rose  was  piled  high  with  treasure, 
the  souls  of  the  men  glutted  with  its  daily  contem- 
plation. 

"A  thousand  fortunes  in  the  ship — and  every 
piece  we  sweat  for  goes  to  him  and  them  that  sent 
him  !  Fools  we  are  I  say.  "  The  grumbler  kicked 
again  at  the  heavy  load  fallen  under  their  feet. 

Fangs  interrupted  the  succeeding  oaths. 

"Stow  yer  jaw  and  do  summat  w'en  the  time 
comes, "  he  muttered. 

A  dozen  sailors  were  pausing  attentively  within 
hearing.  He  sent  them  back  to  their  toil  with  a 
sharp  thrust  of  his  poisonous  tongue.  Maccartey 
patrolling  the  poop  deck,  where  oftenest,  in  these 
days,  he  kept  a  vigilant  watch,  had  turned  toward 
them. 

Suddenly  Fangs  darted  forward  and  pounced 
upon  a  slouching  figure  creeping  nearer  to  listen. 
The  group  re-formed  about  the  prisoner  held  fast 
in  the  clutch  of  his  captor  and  of  the  grumbling 
Gedge. 

"5 


n6  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Jacob  Munch  was  frightened.  His  petty  mind, 
suspicious,  envious,  ill-natured  as  it  was,  had  only 
so  much  of  craftiness  as  a  loutish  blunderer  could 
compass.  His  tongue  was  unready. 

A  look  ran  from  eye  to  eye  about  him  as  a  flame 
leaps  from  dried  leaf  to  dried  leaf  when  the  spark 
falls.  Jacob  did  not  comprehend  the  look,  nor  the 
words  he  had  overheard.  Other  words  penetrated. 
Against  Gedge 's  persistent  warning,  Fangs  poured 
them  into  the  captive's  ear,  rapidly,  in  his  sibilant 
phrases  that  struck  through  the  tough  integument 
of  a  sluggish  brain. 

The  youth's  leaden  cheeks  grew  still  more  un- 
wholesome in  colour;  his  narrow  eyes  lifted  them- 
selves, all  at  once  startled  into  a  direct  glance.  He 
cringed  abjectly. 

"  Don't  murder  me,  "  he  begged. 

"I  told  ye  the  lummux  had  no  blood  in  him!" 
Gedge  regarded  Fangs  with  a  satisfied  leer.  "  Yer 
fat's  in  the  fire.  A  reef  in  yer  tongue  wouldn't 
hurt  ye.  I  ain't  speakin'  fer  none  but  me — but  fer 
me  the's  better  captains  than  a  man  thet  shouts 
he's  comin'  before  he  gits  there — 't's  too  much  like 
a  stinkin'  pole-cat ! " 

Gedge  brought  out  his  meaning  with  vulgar 
emphasis.  The  men  listened  to  his  drawl  with  ap- 
proval. 

The  little  eyes  of  Fangs  glittered  and  he  worked 
his  tongue  in  and  out  around  the  protruding  teeth 
in  a  tentative  fashion.  His  lips  took  on  a  nasty 
twist  and  he  let  his  snaky  gaze  wander  about  the 
circle.  When  he  spoke  it  was  to  Gedge. 

"  Mebbe  ye  think  ye're  the  brains  o'  this  plan ! 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  117 

Can  ye  navigate  a  ship  ?  If  I  choose  to  wait — then 
it's  wait !  If  I  choose  now  to  strike — now's  the 
time!"  Here  he  winked  and  wagged  his  head 
confidentially,  sure  of  his  power. 

The  men  laughed. 

"We  ain't  ready  to-night."  Gedge's  words 
seemed  to  carry  conviction  to  more  than  one. 
"The  treasure  ain't  in." 

"Shet  yer  mouth,  yer  white-livered  sneak." 
Fangs's  profanity  rolled  in  a  horrible  profusion  of 
defilement  from  his  twisted  lips.  He  glared  upon 
the  other,  his  little  eyes  glazing.  "Ye're  afraid — 
afraid — an'  puttin'  it  off  to  warn  the  Captain ! " 
He  extended  his  gaze  once  more  to  include  the 
circle.  "  Shall  we  settle  'im  first  ?  'e's  a  traitor  ! " 

The  violence  of  the  greater  villain — or  a  certain 
truth  in  the  venom  of  his  words — had  won.  Gedge 
surrendered.  He  fell  to  work  upon  the  bags  and 
sang  with  the  loudest  as  the  heap  grew  larger  at 
the  foot  of  the  mast. 

Maccartey  had  watched  the  short  conference 
suspiciously.  Through  the  open  skylight  he  could 
see  Captain  Phips  and  Tom.  The  carpenter  was 
busy  strengthening  the  lockers  of  the  cabin.  The 
Captain  had  taken  a  hand  himself,  explaining  as 
he  worked. 

"  I've  carpentered  more  years  than  thou,  Tom," 
Maccartey  heard  him  say. 

Beside  the  mate  Roger  stood  and  waited. 

"  You  called  me,  sir,  "  he  reminded  him  at  length. 

"So  I  did — 'tis  true.  I  was  shpellbound — 
listenin'  to  the  Captain's  voice.  I'm  bothered  in 
me  mind.  The  men  have  been  conflammin*  to- 


n8  THE  COAST  OP  FREEDOM 

gether.  Hast  marked  annythin'  in  the  boat,  lad?" 
He  looked  down  at  the  growing  pile  the  crew  were 
transferring  from  the  periagua. 

Munch  had  been  spirited  away  and  left,  securely 
trussed,  where  he  could  do  no  harm. 

"  'E  join?"  Manuel  had  asked,  an  ugly  grin  an- 
ticipating the  answer.  Manuel  was  not  a  bad  ex- 
ample of  his  fellows,  superstitious  to  all  depths  of 
credulous  besottedness,  gloating  upon  the  sight  of 
suffering  with  relish  that  had  a  keener  edge  if  he 
could  himself  inflict  the  pang. 

' 'E  join  us?"  he  had  repeated  when  Fangs 
chose  not  to  hear. 

"  'E  would — ter  save  his  skin!"  the  leader  had 
answered  contemptuously.  "But  'e  aint  arsked  to 
join  nothin'.  We're  short  o'  hands  or  I'd  sent'im 
to  rot  w'ere  'e  belongs.  We'll  get  a  better  outern 
the  first  ship  we  over'auls.  I  couldn't  stomach 
'im  long.  A  shark  couldn't  keep  'im  down !" 

He  illuminated  his  words  by  gesture  and  invec- 
tive grotesque  and  abhorrent,  delighting  his  audi- 
ence whenever  he  outdid  them  in  coarseness.  "If 
'e'd  yelled  out,  they'd  'ad  us — four  of  'em  with  an 
arsenal  be'ind  'em  ! "  he  finished,  nodding  viciously 
in  the  direction  of  the  cabin  where  the  carpenter's 
hammer  still  sounded. 

Fangs  scowled  as  he  fell  again  to  work.  The 
mutiny  was  not  wholly  ripe.  The  victory  over  the 
Walrus  had  added  strength  to  the  hold  Captain 
Phips  had  already  upon  his  crew ;  a  third  were  luke- 
warm, a  few  even  unwilling,  the  cook  openly  pro- 
testing. Tom  the  carpenter  was  as  staunch  as 
Maccartey.  No  word  had  been  said  to  Tom.  He 


THE  COAST  OP   FREEDOM  119 

was  safe,  at  the  moment,  where  he  could  not  give 
the  alarm,  and  to  delay  now  was  impossible  in 
any  case.  No  pledge  of  Jacob  Munch  could  be 
trusted. 

Sullen,  lustful,  determined,  the  men  who  had  no 
arms  seized  surreptitiously  upon  other  weapons, 
the  iron  hooks  and  drags,  awkward  implements  of 
their  treasure  fishing.  As  their  hands  closed  upon 
these  rude  bludgeons  their  eyes  swam  greedily  on 
the  unopened  bags,  their  day's  spoil,  still  dripping 
upon  the  windy,  sun-scoured  deck. 

Their  movements  were  rapid  and  not  without 
skill.  As  they  secured  their  clubs,  acting  under 
the  direction  of  Fangs,  they  appeared  merely  to 
move  the  pile  of  iron  to  make  room  for  the  last  of 
the  periagua's  load. 

There  was  little  preparation  needed,  at  most 
three  men  and  a  boy  to  face.  The  Captain  was  still 
absorbed  in  his  carpentry,  the  mate's  gaze  an  in- 
stant turned  to  the  horizon.  But  the  eyes  of  the 
remaining  watcher  were  not  shut. 

"  Mutiny  !     Capt " 

Roger's  voice  burst  in  a  clarion  shout  through 
the  open  skylight,  a  shout  cut  midway  by  a  blow. 
Four  of  the  rebels,  slipping  forward,  had  leaped 
swiftly  up  the  poop  ladder.  The  rest  were  rushing 
in  a  ravening  horde  upon  the  cabin. 

The  sea  danced  cheerfully,  tossing  whorls  of 
foam  from  every  wave,  and  the  wind  ran  unwearied 
in  its  laughing  game  after  the  shining  whiteness 
that  came  and  went  upon  the  upreared  crests.  The 
Rose,  dancing  with  the  sea,  tugged  merrily  at  her 
anchor. 


120  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  crew  confident,  rioting  in  brutal  fancy,  cer- 
tain of  their  prey,  had  already  the  callous  grimness, 
the  zestful  fury  of  their  quest.  There  was  assur- 
ance in  the  very  boisterousness  of  their  advance. 

Into  this  assurance,  this  daring  of  a  horde 
against  a  handful,  upon  the  very  bludgeons  of  the 
already  triumphing  mass,  a  single  figure  hurled 
itself.  In  the  very  utterance  of  Roger's  cry  the 
Captain  was  upon  them — his  huge  frame  instinct 
with  a  vital  rage,  his  whole  unconquerable  person- 
ality thrusting  the  mob  before  him. 

"Cowards!  Dogs!"  he  panted.  "Ye  dare!" 
The  butts  of  his  pistols  swept  them  out  of  his 
path,  and  they  stumbled  over  fallen  bodies,  striv- 
ing to  reach  him  with  their  blows.  Fangs  and 
Gedge  were  trampled  beneath  the  foremost.  The 
mass  was  breaking. 

The  carpenter  leaned  through  the  window,  his 
pistols  cocked,  raging  at  the  Captain's  "  Don't 
shoot,  Tom  !" — ready  to  disobey  if  the  tide  of  con- 
quest turned. 

On  the  poop  the  man  whose  blow  had  cut  off 
Roger's  shout  was  down.  Another  had  taken  his 
place.  With  him  the  lad  strove  fiercely.  The  mate, 
braced  against  the  bulwarks,  battling  with  two 
assailants,  still  defended  himself. 

Suddenly  one  of  the  two  slunk  quickly  away  and 
sprang  down  the  clear  retreat  of  the  ladder.  Be- 
fore any  could  cry  out  in  warning,  the  man's 
weapon  was  over  the  Captain's  head  and  Tom, 
unnoticed  by  the  assassin,  was  leaning  joyously 
nearer  as  his  ball  sped  home. 

Roger  heard  the  shot  but  it  was  some  seconds 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  121 

before  he  heard  more.  When  he  opened  his  eyes 
Maccartey  was  still  doggedly  holding  off  two  assail- 
ants, but  his  strength  was  going.  The  lad  clutched 
swiftly  at  the  man  beneath  whose  fist  he  had  gone 
down,  jerked  the  legs  sharply  from  under  him, 
and  struggling  rolled  with  him  to  the  main  deck. 

This  time,  for  a  goodly  space,  he  neither  heard 
nor  saw.  A  ringing  of  hard  metal  fallen  upon  the 
planks  whereon  his  head  was  resting  roused  his 
senses  to  some  returning  life.  A  voice  came  to 
him  vaguely,  a  powerful  voice,  interrupted  by 
assenting  murmurs. 

The  voice  became  clearer,  the  murmurs  more 
emphatic.  He  thought  himself  sleeeping  and 
strove  to  wake. 

"Art  alive,  lad?" 

He  opened  his  eyes  drowsily  upon  the  scarred 
visage  of  Sparhawk. 

"Bill!"  he  whispered  reproachfully. 

"Hist  there,  lad.  I  knocked  ye  down  easy  lest 
another  kill  ye.  " 

Roger  did  not  understand.  He  tried  to  lift  him- 
self but  did  no  more  than  raise  his  face  from  the 
planks  and  ease  his  head  against  the  ship's  side. 
His  eyes  were  still  drowsy  but  he  saw  the  Captain 
and  knew  whose  voice  it  was  that  had  mingled  with 
his  blurred  half  consciousness. 

The  picture  came  before  his  mind  as  one  of  the 
shifting  scenes  of  sleep  and  he  waited  dully  for  it  to 
change. 

The  Captain,  mounted  upon  the  treasure,  was 
still  speaking.  Below  him  the  men  stood  stupidly, 
like  cattle.  The  wind  came  freshly  off  the  sea  and 


122  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

blew  strongly  in  the  lad's  face.  He  pulled  himself 
higher  and  saw  the  irons  dropped  upon  the  deck, 
It  was  their  clang  that  first  had  roused  him. 

His  eyes  travelled  past  the  listening  crew  to  the 
cabin  window  and  Tom  the  carpenter  who  waited 
yet,  his  pistols  ready ;  then  from  the  window  to  the 
poop  above.  He  could  not  see  the  mate,  and  for  a 
minute  he  watched  the  bulwarks  swim  up  and  down 
upon  the  sky.  As  they  sank,  the  descending  sun 
burned  above  the  black  rim  and  made  him  blind. 

Now  single  words  began  to  separate  themselves, 
from  the  unmeaning  many,  and  he  heard  intently, 
straining  his  mind  to  follow.  The  terrific  energy 
of  the  voice  whose  explosions  had  beaten  at  first 
upon  the  air  like  cannonading  close  at  hand,  had 
sunk  somewhat.  But  its  strokes  came  unerringly 
as  the  ring  of  a  hammer  upon  steel,  and  it  went 
forward  with  forcible  distinctness. 

"My  promise  against  yours.  My  bond  signed 
and  sealed  against  your  own. " 

Roger  sat  up.  Remembrance  had  returned. 
The  crew  were  cheering,  a  hoarse  roar  of  admira- 
tion and  consent.  The  weapons  lay  where  they 
had  fallen.  The  faces  turned  to  the  Captain  wore 
expressions  newly  varied,  the  grudging  surrender 
of  the  beaten,  the  shamed  loyalty  of  traitors  self- 
convicted,  the  enthusiasm  of  prodigals  returned. 

Roger  took  a  swift  count  of  the  defeated  and 
saw  that  the  conquest  was  complete.  There  would 
be  no  more  mutiny  for  long  time  to  come  upon  the 
Araby  Rose.  In  his  search  his  eyes  came  upon  Mac- 
cartey,  bruised  and  smeared  with  his  own  blood, 
standing  in  grim  guard  over  two  prisoners.  Fangs 
was  one. 


THE  COAST  OP  FREEDOM  123 

"The  Little  Maid  knows  naught  of  this.  'Tis  my 
own  fears  that  make  me  ask  the  pledge.  She  was 
sent  to  us '.' 

"Aye,  sir,  She  brought  us  the  treasure.  "  The 
voice  of  the  reanimated  Gedge  broke  in  upon  the 
Captain's,  ardent  in  approval. 

Again  Roger  was  at  a  loss  for  the  meaning  of 
what  he  heard,  "the  Little  Maid"  and  "the  pledge." 

"The  pledges  then  are  these."  The  lad  heark- 
ened eagerly.  "  I  promise  that  which  was  ever  my 
intention,  a  fair  fortune  for  every  man,  and  if  the 
Company  make  not  the  promise  good  I  redeem  it 
from  my  single  share.  Is  it  a  fair  pledge  ? " 

"None  could  make  a  fairer."  Again  the  voice 
of  Gedge. 

"And  now  what  is't  ye  pledge  in  return?" 

The  Captain  stood  over  them  like  a  schoolmaster 
lessoning  an  unruly  class. 

"  'Tis  this.  "  An  older  man  took  the  words  from 
the  very  teeth  of  the  forth-putting  Gedge.  "  'Tis 
this,  Captain  Phips. "  He  plucked  at  his  forelock 
as  he  spoke.  "We  gives  our  oaths  as  we  'opes  for 
mercy  to  serve  faithful  on  the  Rose,  obeyin'  orders 
till  she's  safe  in  port,  and  never  to  pipe  a  word  to 
livin'  soul,  of  the  Little  Maid.  And  for  the  man 
that  whispers  it,  even  in  'is  cups,  to  any — the  curse 
of  Mad  Timothy  be  on  'im.  " 

The  words  sounded  simple  enough,  but  a  shudder 
went  through  the  men. 

"  'Tis  too  awful  a  curse, "  muttered  Gedge. 
'  'Twould  sour  a  man's  stomach  for  his  pewter.  " 

The  Captain's  eyes  blazed  on  him  for  an  instant, 
turned  suggestively  to  Maccartey,  then  swept  the 
group. 


i24  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"And  I — "  his  words  smote  roundly  on  their 
ears — "am  willing  to  be  bound  by  that  which  leaves 
me  poor,  and  cursed  by  the  same  curse  if  I  break  it ! 
'Tis  my  pledge  against  yours  !  How  shall  it  be  ? " 

Roger  had  listened  staring,  his  breath  waiting  on 
the  answer.  But  Gedge's  had  been  the  solitary 
protest.  The  ravening  pack  was  tamed.  The 
lad  slipped  lower  and  drowiness  crept  once  more 
upon  him.  His  lids  closed.  But  the  pain  in  his 
head  was  very  great.  It  would  not  let  him  sleep. 

Sparhawk  was  no  longer  near  him  but  after  a 
space  there  came  a  touch  upon  his  forehead.  The 
touch  was  soft  yet  the  vicious  throbbing  responded 
to  it  with  livelier  throes.  He  moved  involuntar- 
ily and  winced  as  the  motion  stabbed  him.  For  a 
space  again  he  was  alone. 

"  Here,  lad,  sit  up  and  take  thy  medicine  like  a 
Christian.  'Tis  no  time  for  sleeping.  Come  ! " 

A  lusty  arm  was  thrust  beneath  his  shoulders. 
He  knew  the  voice  for  Maccartey's.  It  brought 
warmth  with  it. 

"The  Little  Maid?"  The  lad's  eyes  questioned 
more  than  the  words. 

"The  Little  Maid,  is  it,  then!  Lift  thy  head 
and  see  her  !  'Tis  she  will  give  us  no  peace  till  thou 
art  through  thy  shamming — as  if  the  cap'n  and 
mate  of  the  Rose  had  no  better  to  do  than  nurse 
a  stripling  with  a  broken  head !  Here,  take  the 
cordial. " 

Roger  drank  in  docile  haste  but  his  lips  screwed 
themselves  awry  at  the  dose  he  swallowed. 

"Arrah!  The  ungrateful  rogue  !"  Maccartey's 
tongue  ran  often  in  moments  of  emotion  to  a  soft 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  125 

brogue  repudiated  by  his  Boston  training.  '  'Tis 
no  poison  we're  giving  thee,  but  good  herbs,  and 
costly  into  the  bargain.  A  fine  brew  ! " 

A  sleepy  laugh  woke  in  the  lad's  face. 

"An"  it  be  as  potent  as  'tis  vile  I'm  well  already, " 
he  said — slowly.  "Why — I  am  well!" 

He  released  himself  from  the  mate's  grasp,  and 
felt  the  clumsy  beating  of  his  heart  subside.  As 
he  essayed  to  get  upon  his  feet,  he  saw  the  Maid. 
She  stood  near,  watching  with  a  little  anxious 
frown  the  effort  he  was  making.  Something  in 
his  look  sent  an  answering  delight  into  her  own. 
She  clapped  her  hands. 

"  He  will  live !  He  speaks  like  himself !  He 
will  live  ! "  she  cried,  and  Manuel,  hearing  the  sound 
and  the  exclamation,  crossed  himself  devoutly, 
feasting  his  passing  glance  on  the  ugly  plaster  that 
striped  Maccartey's  cheek,  and  the  uglier  bruise 
above  the  boy's  temple. 

"Thou'rt  not  hurt?"  Roger's  gaze  kept  to  the 
Maid,  seeking  some  sign  of  mischief  upon  her. 

"The  cook  locked  me  below — in  the  cabin.  I 
could  not  get  out.  "  She  came  nearer,  appealing  to 
Roger  and  the  mate.  "  Tell  me — was  it  a  mutiny  ? 
Will  they — be  hanged?"  New  violence  coming 
upon  the  old  had  pressed  hard  upon  her.  In  her 
agitation  trembled  a  nervous  dread,  made  greater 
by  the  horror  of  remembrance. 

Roger  spoke  quickly. 

"The  men  are  forgiven.  There'll  be  no  more 
mutiny. " 

"But  the  prisoners ? " 

"They're  too  sick  to  be  hanged, "  Maccartey  put 


126  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

in  cheerily.     "They'll  go  easier'n   they   deserve. 
Hast  nothing  to  fear.     'Tis  all  over  now.  " 

The  Maid  drew  yet  nearer,  comforted  by  the 
tone. 

"  Nothing  can  harm  thee  while  the  Captain " 

Maccartey  would  have  gone  on. 

"He  is  a  hero!"  she  interrupted  radiantly.  "I 
love  him  well. " 

The  lad's  eyes  flashed,  and  the  mate's  beamed 
satisfaction  with  her  words. 

'  'Tis  so,  "  he  said.     "  We  love  him  well. " 

"Where  is  he?"  Roger  was  standing  at  last. 
The  medicine  worked  nobly  but  there  was  a  ringing 
in  his  head  as  of  a  blacksmith's  anvil.  Maccartey 
watched  him  cautiously  as  he  answered. 

"Writing,"  he  replied  briefly.  "A  pledge  for 
the  signing  of  the  crew.  " 

"  With  the  oath  of  Mad  Timothy  ? " 

Maccartey  looked  anxiously  around.  The  Maid 
had  left  them. 

"Aye,"  he  answered — "that  same." 

"  'Tis  short.  He  must  be  finished  by  this,"  the 
lad  said  wearily.  "What  made  my  head  play  me 
this  coward's  trick?" 

"Trick  is  it!  Boots  and  body  o'  me,  boy! 
Faith,  and  'tis  thy  thick  skull  thou  mayest  be 
praising  thou'rt  not  cracked  entirely  !  An  eight- 
foot  tumble  with  Bill  atop — and  after  the  pirate's 
blow — 

'  'Tis  not  the  thickness  of  the  skull  but  the  sound 
brains  within ' ' 

Maccartey  had  not  finished.  He  disregarded 
the  interruption. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  127 

"  An'  it's  mebbe  cracked  thou  art !  Thou  talkest 
as  if  writing  were  but  an  easy  task  !  See  here,  lad, 
canst  write,  thyself?"  He  moved  confidingly 
closer  for  the  answer. 

"Try  me."  Roger  laughed  again.  "I  believe 
I  can  walk.  The  dizziness  is  gone. " 

"  Then  walk  thou  to  the  Captain  and  lend  a  hand 
at  the  pledge.  That's  a  fine  figure  of  pluck  for  ye, " 
he  added,  as  the  lad  moved  unsteadily  toward  the 
cabin  door.  "But  I'll  not  be  sending  him  aloft 
the  night !" 

The  pledge,  inscribed  upon  a  dingy  leaf  torn  from 
the  ship's  log,  was  ready. 

One  by  one  the  men  had  slouched  or  shuffled 
forward.  Gedge  had  read  the  promises  aloud,  ad- 
ministered the  formidable  oath,  and  witnessed  the 
signing  that  closed  the  compact.  More  than  one 
hand  shook  as  it  laboriously  traced  its  mark  upon 
the  paper.  The  manuscript  completed  looked  to 
Roger  not  unlike  the  picture  writing  of  the  North- 
ern Indians,  the  signatures  scattered  upon  the  page 
like  signs  of  the  zodiac  in  a  confusion  of  worlds. 

As  fast  as  their  symbols  were  affixed  the  men  re- 
turned to  their  tasks.  Gedge  had  recited  the  oath 
of  Mad  Timothy  with  special  unction  to  Jacob 
Munch,  and  the  youth's  terror  showed  in  the 
nerveless  bungling  of  his  letters. 

The  Little  Maid  remained  fast  by  the  side  of 
Captain  Phips;  as  the  day  drew  on  toward  night 
she  felt  never  safe  elsewhere.  To  her  request  to 
read  the  pledge  he  had  shaken  his  head. 

"  'Tis  not  good  reading, "  he  had  answered  with 


128  THE  COAST   OF    FREEDOM 

sturdy  good  humour.  "  Bother  not  thy  head  with 
script.  'Tis  unnatural  for  maids — and  thou'rt  too 
young.  'Tis  bad  enough  for  Roger!" 

"  I  can  write;  my  uncle  taught  me, "  she  had  re- 
plied shaking  her  head  in  turn.  "Thou  wilt  let 
me  help  sometimes — like  Roger?"  she  had  begged. 

"  Shalt  have  thy  way  if  writing  must  be  done.  I 
crave  no  more  of  it,"  and  seeing  her  wistful  still, 
he  laughed  and  the  laugh  rolled  out  wholesome 
and  confident  across  the  sparkling  waves.  "  'Tis 
not  every  Captain  hath  two  such  scriveners  in  one 
ship  !  Why,  lass,  'tis  a  brave  academy,  the  Araby 
Rose!" 

The  Little  Maid  had  not  laughed,  but  in  her 
soberness  was  a  deep  content.  Her  eyes  clung  to 
him  as  the  eyes  of  hapless  things  cling  to  a  pro- 
tector, and  she  was  with  him  still  as  he  issued  from 
the  cabin  and  took  his  stand  opposite  Maccartey, 
who  directed  the  work  upon  the  treasure. 

The  bars  had  all  been  stowed.  The  jewels 
rested  in  the  Captain's  lockers.  The  heap  of  bags 
waited.  Piled  together  like  shapeless  trunks, 
petrified  in  the  fifty  years  of  their  immersion,  they 
lay  at  the  foot  of  the  mast. 

Two  men  with  axes  were  ready  beside  the  first. 
The  hard  substance  that  encrusted  the  canvas 
itself  embedded  strange  sea  spoils — shells,  petrified 
sprays  of  plume  and  weed,  and  broken  branches 
of  the  coral,  blanched  ghostly  in  the  lime. 

Gedge  struck  lustily  and  the  encasing  hardness 
cracked  under  the  blow.  Tom  waited  grimly, 
spat  first  on  one  hand,  then  the  other,  and  swung 
the  clumsy  haft  above  his  head.  The  thick  crust 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  129 

split  from  end  to  end.  A  stream  of  glittering 
silver  flowed  across  the  deck,  running  even  to  the 
feet  of  the  Little  Maid. 

She  went  quickly  forward  and  bent  to  touch  a 
sea  anemone  frozen  in  the  solid  rime.  The  pro- 
jecting edge  broke  short  and  she  stood  up  gazing 
ruefully  upon  it.  The  slight  wrench  had  stirred  the 
mass  and  set  flowing  upon  the  deck  fresh  streams 
of  shining  coin.  In  the  very  centre  there  lay  exposed 
a  leather  pouch.  The  case  was  rotted.  Even  as 
it  was  given  into  the  Captain's  hands  it  fell  away 
from  a  delicate  vase,  the  cup  a  pure  crystal  hol- 
lowed within  and  twined  without  by  clasping 
tendrils  of  gold,  the  whole  so  tiny  a  man  could 
grasp  it  only  with  a  thumb  and  finger  lest  he  crush 
it.  The  Maid  cried  out  softly  as  it  came  to  light. 

Maccartey  first  broke  the  silence  that  followed  its 
appearance. 

"Sure  'tis  the  sea  fairies  sent  it  to  thee,  little 
one!"  he  exclaimed. 

The  men  had  gathered  closer,  superstition  and 
greed  glowing  in  their  look. 

"  I  fear  me,  no  better  fairies  than  could  man  a 
ship !"  The  Captain  turned  the  glass  as  he  spoke 
so  the  light  of  the  sun  streamed  through  it  into 
their  faces.  "The  Maid  shall  drink  to  us — safe 
home  and  the  keeping  of  the  pledge  ! "  he  cried. 

The  sun,  sinking  steadily  to  the  near  horizon 
burned  across  the  waters  in  a  blaze  dazzling  and 
resplendent.  Between,  the  translucent  sea  shone 
like  the  glory  of  another  world.  The  stained  rig- 
ging caught  the  fervid  light  upon  furled  sail  and 
battered  spar,  transfigured  to  a  brilliance  not  its 
own. 


130  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  group  below  the  mast  showed  clearly,  their 
features,  reddened  or  bronzed,  raw-hued  or  dull, 
luminously  plain,  the  Indians  alone  smooth  and 
unblemished  of  skin.  On  swarthy  arms  wielding 
the  axes  great  muscles  came  and  went,  writhing 
like  serpents  beneath  their  hairy  covering. 

The  rings  in  Manuel's  ears  gleamed  against  his 
curls,  and  his  red  cap  made  a  brighter  spot  in  the 
brightness,  its  tassel  swinging  as  he  shifted  his  bare 
feet  upon  the  planks.  Homespun  or  fringed  cloth, 
flaunting  sashes  or  leathern  belts,  backs  clothed 
or  naked,  the  glamour  found  them  out  and  clothed 
them  all. 

Save  for  the  strokes  upon  the  crusted  bags  and 
the  rattle  of  coins  into  an  empty  chest,  the  group 
were  silent  till  the  cup  was  filled.  The  Maid  had 
returned  to  the  Captain  and  stood  beside  him 
waiting.  Maccartey's  eyes  strayed  from  the 
Spanish  silver  spilled  upon  the  boards  and  rested 
on  her  face. 

The  sea  had  mounted  upon  the  round  disc  of  the 
sun.  The  light  had  changed.  A  crimson  splendour 
splashed  the  waves  and  poured  its  flood  upon  the 
ship.  The  glinting  silver  gave  it  back  in  fiery 
coruscations,  and  the  cup,  aflame  in  all  its  trans- 
parent crystal,  seemed  the  colour's  soul  and  source. 

The  axes  had  fallen,  idle;  the  streams  of  silver 
spread,  unregarded,  upon  the  rolling  deck.  The 
sailor  kneeling  by  the  chest  forgot  his  task,  staring 
upward  at  the  child.  Roger  had  drawn  nearer  to 
Captain  Phips. 

The  Little  Maid  took  the  crystal  from  the  Cap- 
tain's hand.  The  hush  grew  deeper,  the  watching 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  131 

more  strained.  Her  look,  bent  upon  the  men 
about  the  mast,  upon  Roger,  and  last  upon  the 
Captain,  was  grave  and  searching. 

Steadily  she  raised  the  cup,  and  drank.  And  as 
she  turned  again  to  her  protector,  there  came  upon 
her  lifted  face  a  smile  wondrous  as  the  sea,  sud- 
den and  magical  as  the  radiant  afterglow. 


CHAPTER    X 

THE    ROYAL    GOVERNOR 

THE  crowd  pouring  from  Meeting  House 
square  into  King  street  from  either  side 
the  Town  House  blocked  the  way  to 
suffocation. 

Farther  up  Cornhill  Mr.  Clark,  the  pewterer, 
was  bowing  forth  a  dame  who  had  bargained  long 
and  bought  nothing.  Dragging  at  her  hand,  a 
small  boy,  in  flowing  trousers  that  just  showed  the 
butternut-colored  hosiery  between  them  and  his 
shoes,  looked  anxiously  in  the  direction  of  the 
throng. 

"And  the  shallow  bowl "  began  the  dame 

again. 

"Will  be  no  less  and  no  more  this  twelvemonth,  " 
interrupted  the  merchant,  hastily  beginning  to 
fasten  on  the  wooden  shutters  of  his  shop.  "I 
shall  be  pleased  to  have  you  see  them  at  leisure  in 
a  better  light,  Mistress  Munch, "  he  added  as  the 
woman  moved  away  abruptly. 

She  vouchsafed  no  reply,  being  angry  at  his 
haste,  and  turned  her  back  without  farewell.  The 
anxious  look  upon  the  small  boy's  face  lightened  as 
they  mixed  in  the  thickening  concourse,  and  he 
pulled  with  increasing  energy  at  his  mother's  arm. 

Mistress  Munch  was  stout  and  dangerously 
laced,  nor  was  more  speed  attainable  save  at  the 
expense  of  dignity  already  wounded  by  the  pew- 

132 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  133 

terer's  independence.  She  cuffed  the  small  boy 
smartly,  exasperation  tingling  in  the  blow. 

"For  shame,  Shubael, "  she  scolded.  "Acting 
and  pulling  like  one  possessed!  Come  here,  sir!" 

Shubael  whimpered  softly  to  himself  and  fell 
back  unprotesting,  the  eagerness  gone  from  his 
chubby  face.  The  woman  still  scolded  as  they 
went,  interrupting  herself  often  to  greet  a  neigh- 
bour with  the  shade  of  cordiality  or  distance  that 
should  indicate  his  rank. 

They  had  followed  without  difficulty  through  the 
square  and  along  the  south  wall  of  the  Town  H"ouse, 
but  at  the  head  of  King  Street  the  obstructing  cur- 
rents flowing  from  Pudding  Lane  on  the  right  and 
from  Crooked  Lane  and  Shrimpton's  on  the  left 
checked  their  advance,  and  they  were  caught  in  a 
backward  wash  of  the  tide  and  stranded  in  a  spot 
where  motion  ceased. 

Mistress  Munch  dropped  the  child's  hand  to 
guard  the  amplitude  of  her  skirts,  and  the  boy 
whimpered  again,  frightened  by  the  numbers  press- 
ing upon  them. 

Talk  hummed  in  the  quiet  air,  bits  of  exclama- 
tion, homely  chat  and  comment,  zigzagging 
among  friends. 

"There  be  eight  companies  to  meet  him.  " 

"Is  it  sure  they  pass  this  way ? " 

"  Of  couse,  Zany  ?     Why  else  went  th.e  militia —  " 

"I  feared  'twas  Scarlett's — Sir  Humphrey  Wild- 
glass  landed  at  Scarlett's. " 

"And  the  people  thick  as  porridge  here  in  King 
Street;  where  be  thy  eyes?" 

"Calm  thyself,  Charity,"  put  in  a  louder  voice. 


134  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Shubael  edged  away  from  the  speaker,  who  towered 
appallingly  above  him.  '  'Tis  no  good  prepara- 
tion for  the  morrow.  'Twere  better  had  the  ships 
arrived  before,  not  set  thy  tongue  wagging  on 
worldly  discourse  upon  the  Sabbath  eve. " 

"Sir  William  should  better  control  the  winds! 
'Twas  blameworthy — and  somewhat  rank  in  taste 
— to  be  in  such  haste  for  Boston  !  'Tis  to  be  won- 
dered if  your  governor  be  counted  of  the  elect.  " 

The  Puritan  wheeled  to  see  who  had  addressed 
him,  strong  curiosity  in  his  expression  as  he  per- 
ceived the  stranger. 

"  I  fear  your  words  have  too  much  truth  in  them, 
Sir,"  he  replied  gravely.  "But  it  is  not  in  the 
power  of  William  Phips  to  control  the  wind  that 
'bloweth  where  it  listeth'.  I  but  meant  to  urge 
he  might  have  waited  without  until  the " 

The  sentence  was  lost  in  a  forward  movement 
of  the  mass  that  hemmed  them  in.  A  roll  of  drums 
from  the  distance  had  quickened  the  steps  of  the 
foremost.  The  way  opened  again,  the  main 
stream  carrying  with  it  the  lesser  tributaries. 

The  stranger  had  taken  out  his  snuff  box,  a  per- 
fume shaking  from  the  lace  of  his  sleeves  as  he 
tapped  the  inlaid  lid  suggestively.  "An  indul- 
gence I  may  not  offer  on  the  Sabbath  eve?"  he 
asked  with  suave  insolence  as  they  separated. 

"  'Tis  Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass,  Charity,"  whis- 
pered the  friend.  "  He  came  on  the  same  ship  with 
Mr.  Apthorpe. " 

"  His  apparel  suits  not  the  good  sense  of  his 
words. "  The  Puritan's  tone,  that  he  made  no 
effort  to  modulate,  was  again  loud  with  disfavour. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  135 

Mistress  Munch  had  but  waited  to  catch  the 
stranger's  name. 

"I  see  Madam  Verring,  Mam." 

Shubael  spoke  for  the  first  time,  a  shy  purpose 
in  his  words. 

"Where?"  His  mother  drew  him  hastily  after 
as  she  crossed  to  the  entrance  of  Pudding  lane. 
"Make  your  manners  to  Madam,"  she  admonished 
him  as  they  went. 

The  air  was  charged  with  invisible  excitement, 
but  the  crowd  was  grave  rather  than  cheerful,  and 
gave  serious  attention  to  its  steps,  conversing 
staidly  as  it  progressed  and  giving  vent  to  no  shout- 
ings nor  vain  noises. 

To  hasten  in  such  a  concourse  was  to  be  un- 
pleasantly conspicuous,  and  it  cost  Mistress  Munch 
some  moments  of  careful  manoeuvring  to  over- 
take the  two  upon  whom  her  eyes  were  set,  the 
more  because  wherever  the  couple  moved  the 
multitude  opened  to  let  them  pass,  returning  their 
salutations  with  deep  respect  and  closing  in 
promptly  behind  them. 

Nothing  in  the  fashion  of  their  dress  distin- 
guished them  from  their  neighbors.  The  woman's 
bonnet  and  mantle  were  far  plainer  than  those  of 
Mistress  Munch,  though  their  texture,  like  that  of 
the  sad-colored  silk,  was  of  greater  richness.  She 
drew  closer  to  her  husband  as  the  crowd  jostled  her. 

"Would  it  be  better  we  returned,"  he  asked, 

pausing.  "The  numbers  are  oppressive and 

this  welcoming  of  a  royal  governor  is  little  to  my 
mind. " 

"Nay,  Nicolas,"    his   wife  replied  quickly.     "I 


136  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

would  stay  and  see.  He  was  ever  kind  to  Roger.  " 
She  added  the  last  sentence  in  a  lower  tone,  know- 
ing, as  her  husband  knew,  that  it  was  the  sight  of 
Roger  at  the  head  of  his  company  she  most  craved. 

"  He  is  not  unlike  thee,  in  his  uniform,  "  she  con- 
tinued after  a  little  silence,  pursuing  their  unuttered 
thought. 

Nicolas  Verring's  look  had  gathered  sternness 
in  the  waiting.  He  harked  back  to  her  words  about 
the  Governor. 

"It  remaineth  to  be  proved  whether  or  no  we 
repent  that  kindness.  Thou  judgest  weakly, 
Alison. " 

The  woman  flushed  a  little  at  the  heat  of  his  tone. 

"It  is  natural  a  mother  should  be  mindful  of 
those  that  deal  graciously  by  her  children, "  she 
rejoined  quietly.  She  had  not  forgotten  the  Hope- 
well,  though  she  forbore  to  recall  it  aloud.  Even 
after  six  years  her  heart  warmed  to  the  man  who 
had  protected  her  boy,  but  her  husband's  re- 
proaches left  a  trouble  in  the  memory,  and  she 
harrowed  her  secret  thoughts  for  a  lurking  wicked- 
ness that  might  prefer  her  son's  welfare  to  his  soul's 
salvation. 

"  Would  he  resembled  me  in  the  spirit  rather  than 
in  the  perishable  flesh,  "  the  father  persisted  strenu- 
ously. "There  would  be  no  more  paltering.  I 
would  have  Roger  owe  nothing  to  the  faction  of 
Sir  William  Phips — 'tis  a  leading  of  the  blind. 
Serving  God  with  levity  of  carriage  !  '  And  the  boy 

hath  vain  desires There's  little  of  the  light 

in  him.  God  forbid  that  little  should  be  made  a 
darkness!"  A  worried  look  drew  together  his 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  137 

brows  and  he  stopped  abruptly.  "Captain  Fitch 
is  beckoning  us, "  he  added  as  he  raised  his  eyes. 
"Shall  we  go  over  ? " 

"  Let  us  wait  here,  "  his  wife  urged  quickly.  "  I 
refused  Madam  Butler's  invitation  to  share  her 
porch.  I  thought  'twould  seem  too  much  like 
merrymaking  for  the  eve  of  the  Sabbath  day. " 

"Now  who'd  have  thought  to  meet  a  friend  in 
such  a  rabble ! "  The  surprise  of  Mistress  Munch 
was  somewhat  overdone.  "Have  you  seen  aught 
of  Christopher  ?  He  was  to  wait  me  on  the  corner 
by  Madam  Phillips's,  but  'tis  no  wonder  to  miss 
each  other  in  a  press  like  this  !  Saw  you  ever  the 

like  !  And  who  may  be  the 'Tis  my  Jacob 

and  his  sister!  See,  in  the  window  yonder!" 
She  gave  her  whole  attention  for  a  breathing  space 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  way. 

Mr.  Verring  had  inclined  his  head  at  her  ap- 
proach but  paid  her  no  further  heed;  and  Madam 
Verring  had  smiled,  but  the  smile  had  been  chiefly 
for  Shubael,  who  crept  to  her  side,  in  his  mother's 
brief  preoccupation,  and  gazed  up  at  her  as  a  dog 
gazes  when  its  feels  importunately  the  need  of 
speech. 

"What  is  it,  Shubael?"  she  asked,  compre- 
hending. 

"  Will  there  be  volleys  for  the  Governor? "  The 
question  came  in  an  explosive  whisper. 

"It  is  the  Sabbath  eve,"  Nicolas  Verring  an- 
swered severely.  "There  will  be  no  firing.  " 

The  boy  shrank  abashed,  and  dropped  his  eyes. 
Alison  Verring  bent  to  settle  the  cap  on  the  close- 
cropped  head. 


138  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"The  volleys  will  be  on  Monday,  "  she  said  gently. 

A  gleam  illuminated  the  round  face  but  the  child 
ventured  on  no  further  speaking. 

"Christopher  will  have  it  Jacob's  new  doublet 
is  far  too  fine  for  the  provinces,  but  it  sets  him  off 
mightily!"  Mistress  Munch  had  drawn  a  dozen 
short  breaths  and  was  in  full  voice  again.  "  His 
figure  is  much  improved,  I  tell  him.  'Tis  more 
elegantly  proper.  There's  not  a  better  turned  leg 
in  Boston.  I  can't  abide  the  spindling  youths  that 
dangle  after  Beulah. " 

Nicolas  Verring  was  about  to  carry  off  his  wife 
to  the  neglected  hospitality  of  Captain  Fitch,  a 
righteous  distaste  for  the  vulgarity  of  the  woman 
operating  with  a  stronger  disapproval  of  the  matter 
of  her  discourse,  but  his  intention  was  frustrated 
by  Christopher  Munch  himself. 

Alison  Verring  moved  a  little  apart  as  the  man 
appeared.  Mistress  Munch  grew  silent;  the  infla- 
tion of  her  mood  collapsed  sharply.  In  her  manner 
was  unpleasantly  manifest  the  cowardice  of  a 
small  nature  browbeaten  and  bullied.  Something 
afraid  and  furtive  in  her  look  sent  Madam  Verring's 
glance  to  the  window  where  Jacob  Munch  was 
fretfully  haranguing  his  sister.  An  interruption, 
apparently  an  arrival,  restored  his  heavily  satisfied 
expression  and  he  rose  with  unwonted  briskness 
of  motion. 

"  A  wonderful  man  truly  !     Heaven  send  us " 

The  owner  of  the  voice  had  passed  on  but  his 
enthusiasm  lingered  in  murmurs  that  echoed  his 
words.  An  angry  light  enlivened  the  dull  features 
of  Christopher  Munch. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  139 

"A  mblancholy  thing,' '  he  said  sourly,  "that  the 
sons  of  Belial  be  set  on  high  and  time-servers  wor- 
shipping before  them ! " 

"I  cannot  call  Sir  William  Phips  a  'son  of  Be- 
lial,'" Verring  answered  calmly.  "And  it  would 
seem,  his  faction  serve  more  from  misguided  zeal 
than  for  any  ends  of  self-seeking.  " 

The  cold  moderation  and  careful  justice  of  the 
defence  increased  the  other's  truculence. 

"Would  they  might  be  wiped  from  the  colony 
and  the  land  purged  of  their  offence  !"  he  rejoined 
harshly.  "Then  might  we  see  again  the  days  of 
godliness !  Now  when  any  rapscallion  may  call 
himself  citizen,  member  of  the  meeting  or  no,  even 
a  perverted  scoffer  may  cast  a  vote.  There's  no 
safety  in  Zion  ! " 

The  carnal  spite  in  Hunch's  tone  contrasted  as 
oddly  with  his  words  as  the  coarseness  of  his  over- 
fed person  with  the  would-be  sancity  of  his  air. 
The  same  confusion  appeared  in  his  clothing,  that 
was  an  unhappy  blending  of  New  England  sobriety 
and  newly  imported  worldliness.  An  aggressive 
prosperity  and  an  aggressive  piousness  expressed 
him  equally. 

"The  godliness  of  Christopher  Munch  is  like 
salve  on  water;  it  gets  never  deeper  than  the  sur- 
face, "  Roger  had  once  opined,  in  the  face  of  some 
condemnation  flagrantly  unfair  that  his  father  had 
quoted  to  him  for  edification ;  and  Nicolas  Verring 
had  reprimanded  his  son  bitterly,  seeing  in  the 
hasty  speech  but  wilful  impiety. 

Yet  if  the  face  of  Nicolas  Verring  was  forbidding, 
it  was  with  the  sternness  of  the  ascetic  and  its 


140  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

strength  attracted  even  while  its  austerity  re- 
pelled. Nor  was  the  effect  marred  by  physical 
weakness.  His  body  was  of  great  vigour,  the  spare 
frame  erect  with  the  militant  force  of  anchorites 
who  survive  the  rigours  of  their  discipline.  His 
very  dress,  its  sombreness  relieved  only  by  the 
broad  collar  of  fine  linen,  had  a  distinction  in  the 
wearing.  Beside  him  Christopher  Munch  showed 
crassly  underbred. 

'"Sir  William'— 'Sir  William'!  There's  noth- 
ing else  thought  on  but  'Sir  William' !  I  am  sure 
one  wearies  of  the  name  !"  put  in  Mistress  Munch, 
faithfully  echoing  her  master. 

"And  'tis  but  a  sorry  name — repeated  so!" 
The  suavely  insolent  voice  again  of  Sir  Humphrey 
Wildglass.  "  How  much  better  would  sound  Sir 
Christopher — or  Sir  Jacob  ! "  He  had  taken  his 
station  so  that  none  of  the  woman's  words  had 
missed  him.  She  regarded  the  interruption  with 
a  doubtful  flutter,  silenced  by  the  derisive  amuse- 
ment in  the  stranger's  look. 

Christopher  had  not  heard  the  low-voiced  com- 
ment. 

"  'Tis  no  great  thing  to  be  'Sir'  anybody!"  he 
declared  contemptuously,  disregarding  his  wife's 
effort  to  call  his  attention  to  the  newcomer.  "It 
means  naught.  Titles  are  but  vanities  and  a  snare 
to  the  scornful. " 

Nicolas  Verring  had  been  a  moment  engagad 
with  a  passer  by,  but  he  caught  the  last  sentence 
and  instantly  approved  it. 

"A  man  may  not  deny  his  blood,  but  he  should 
depend  upon  himself  and  boast  not  of  the  grace 
given  unto  his  ancestors,"  he  said  promptly. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  141 

"It  is  of  Sir  William  we  are  speaking,  and  he 
hath  depended  on  himself  and  on  none  other,  Nico- 
las, and  what  honours  he  hath  be  fairly  earned." 
Madam  Verring  flushed  again  as  she  spoke,  but  her 
words  held  their  eloquence  conviction  to  the  end. 
Though  dutifully  of  her  husband's  public  creed 
and  gravely  distrustful  of  the  discretion  of  the 
Governor,  she  must  yet  see  rendered  to  the  absent 
his  due. 

"Surely,  madam,  you  hold  not  that  adventures 
on  the  high  seas,  and  wars,  and  such-like  wildness 
and  rovings,  are  fit  training  for  a  governor  of  this 
great  colony  !  What  does  William  Phips  know  of 
statecraft?"  contended  Mistress  Munch. 

"  I  know  not  enough  of  statecraft  myself  to 
judge,  "  answered  Alison  quietly,  "  but  he  hath  gov- 
erned crews  and  armies  well.  "  The  instinct  to  de- 
fend the  attacked  seemed  to  grow  as  she  talked. 
"  He  proved  himself  not  unskilful  at  the  court,  and 
may  show  greater  wisdom  than  we  deem  likely. 
'Twas  for  high  qualities  he  was  knighted,  courage 
and  honesty " 

"And  what  was  he  at  the  start?  A  mere  ignor- 
ant sheep  herd  of  Pemaquid.  When  first  he  came 
hither  they  say  he  could  neither  read  nor  write. 
Lady  Phips,  I  make  no  doubt,  is  preening  her 
feathers  for  all  this  new  honour.  She  was  not  so 
lacking  as  some  would  have  it  when  she  married  the 
ship  carpenter.  It  taketh  a  widow " 

Madam  Verring  was  uncomfortably  conscious 
of  Shubael's  eyes,  grown  round  with  wonder. 

"Lady  Phips  hath  her  husband  in  great  tender- 
ness. The  day  must  indeed  bring  her  joy, "  she 


i42  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

broke  in  with  gentle  decisiveness,  ignoring  the 
other's  rancour. 

Mistress  Munch  herself  could  not  write,  and  her 
own  birth  was  several  shades  below  the  traditions  of 
the  "  Massachuset  colony";  to  have  been  the  wife 
of  the  Governor  and  a  knight's  lady,  her  glory 
seen  and  her  importance  felt  in  the  very  neighbour- 
hood where  she  had  borne  the  stings  of  patronage, 
would  have  been  ultimate  happiness  to  the  wife  of 
Christopher  Munch. 

"I  crave  pardon,  goodwife — canst  tell  me  the 
name  of  the  maiden,  the  goddess,  who  sits  so 
modestly  ensconced  behind  yonder  lattice?" 

It  was  once  more  Sir  Humphrey,  bowing  with 
supercilious  lightness  before  her  whose  accent  had 
earlier  attracted  him. 

"  'Tis  my  daughter,  Sir  —  Mistress  Beulah 
Munch, "she  answered,  following  his  glance. 

"Nay,  nay,  good  woman — not  the  flaxen  shep- 
herdess, nor  the  Corydon  in  small  clothes,  but  the 
goddess — she  of  the  dark  hair  ! " 

There  was  agitation  in  the  demand.  He  bit  his 
lip  as  he  waited,  his  eyes  not  leaving  the  group 
across  the  way. 

The  house  at  which  he  stared  was  close  to  the 
street  and  the  ground  floor  showed  no  signs  of  life 
save  the  head  of  an  old  lady  that  was  often  lifted 
and  bowed  behind  the  small  panes  as  if  its  owner 
were  talking  with  much  animation.  Now  and 
again  a  younger  woman  had  appeared  on  the 
threshold,  asked  a  question  of  those  who  stood  or 
sat  upon  the  broad  step,  and  retired  into  the  dim 
interior.  The  window  in  the  story  above,  on  which 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  143 

the  stranger's  eyes  were  fixed,  was  wide  open,  was 
in  fact  a  door  more  than  a  window,  whose  leaves 
swung  outward  upon  a  narrow  cornice  above  the 
entrance,  exposing  a  latticed  guard  set  to  warn 
children  and  the  unwary. 

Upon  this  guard  two  girls  leaned  and  chatted, 
or  rather  Beulah  Munch  chatted  while  the  other 
listened.  The  face  of  the  listener  was  not  fully 
visible,  but  that  she  was  a  stranger  like  himself 
and  no  Puritan  must  have  been  clear  to  a  duller 
sense  than  Sir  Humphrey's. 

Mistress  Munch  had  shrugged  her  shoulders  in  a 
sudden  pique. 

'  'Tis  like  you're  making  sport  of  the  girl,  but 
Madam  Fitch  would  have  my  Beulah  to  meet  her. 
She  is  but  late  from  England " 

"  Her  name. "  The  demand  came  now  more 
peremptorily  as  if  the  man  felt  sharply  some 
pressure  the  answer  might  relieve.  In  his  eyes  a 
hard  gleam  lightened. 

"Mistress  Armitage — and  she  hath  a  given 
name,  terrible  odd  and  outlandish.  'Tis  for  that  I 
recall  it.  Temple  Armitage  is  she  called.  See 
how  she  pretends  to  turn  away  and  not  to  heed 
Jacob's  speeches !  Sly  and  bold  I  make  no  doubt, 
like  many  who  come  hither  to  flout  their  bet- 
ters  ' ' 

The  acrimonious  utterance  stopped  in  mid  air 
for  lack  of  audience.  Madam  Verring  had  im- 
mediately moved  aside  at  Sir  Humphrey's  intru- 
sion, and  he  was  no  longer  heeding. 

The  girl  had  changed  her  position  to  escape 
Jacob  Munch  and  was  looking  forth.  Annoyance 


144  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

had  given  vividness  to  her  colour  and  the  glow  of 
her  beauty  warmed  tho  sober  street. 

It  had  instant  and  extraordinary  effect  upon  Sir 
Humphrey.  He  stepped  hastily  backward,  paling 
so  that  the  artificial  colour  upon  his  lifeless  cheeks 
was  frankly  visible. 

"Frances  !"  His  lips  formed  the  words,  though 
he  had  uttered  no  sound. 

"  What  was  that  you  said,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  woman 
curiously. 

"'A  goddess',  Madam,  a  very  goddess!"  He 
smiled  a  little  stiffly  as  if  the  muscles  were  not 
wholly  relaxed  from  their  amazement,  but  his  tone 
was  as  ductile  as  before.  "The  sight  overcame 
me.  Such  is  the  danger  of  an  abode  remote  from 
loveliness  !"  He  answered  rapidly,  so  that  his  un- 
flattering sentiment  was  somewhat  wasted;  and 
bowing  with  the  same  ironical  grace  with  which 
he  had  presented  himself,  he  drew  back  into  the 
throng. 

"The  nincompoop  is  smitten  with  the  girl!  He 
needn  't  think  to  deceive  me  ! "  she  sniffed  disgust- 
edly as  he  departed.  "Goodwife"  forsooth! 
And  'good  woman' !  Had  I  noticed  it  earlier  he'd 
got  no  names  from  Arabella  Munch.  " 

From  Pierce 's  alley  the  last  company  of  militia 
debouched  upon  King  street  and  marched  rapidly 
down  the  hill,  the  crowd  scattering  to  let  them 
pass — a  goodly  array,  strong-bodied,  straight- 
limbed,  with  an  obstinate  independence  in  their 
motions,  a  thoughtful  energy  in  their  cleanly  pro- 
nounced features. 

In  Captain  Fitch's  pasture  there  was  a  sudden 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  145 

commotion  as  the  constable  dislodged  the  boys 
who  had  climbed  indecorously  into  the  trees  that 
fringed  the  highway;  the  officer  stalked  back, 
solemnly  triumphant,  his  crestfallen  prey  at  his 
heels,  the  whole  party  daintily  bespattered  with 
pin«k  petals  and  white. 

The  mass  of  people  grew  denser,  more  impatient 
in  the  subdued  by-play  of  talk  and  rare  gesture, 
more  often  stopping  to  frown  expectantly  toward 
the  shore. 

Nicolas  Verring  sent  no  interested  glance  in  the 
direction  of  the  wharf.  He  gave  his  attention 
wholly  to  the  conversation  his  companion  had  not 
allowed  the  gossip  of  the  women  to  interrupt. 

"They  have  destroyed  us,"  Munch  was  saying 

with  violence.  "Jacob  could  tell  you 'Tis 

certain  that  Sir  William  hath  been  greatly  over- 
rated. A  man  most  unsound  and  lax.  It  was  an 
irreligious  and  godless  ship  he  had  in  the  Araby 
Rose,  and  shocking  to  a  Godfearing  lad  like  Jacob.  I 
would  your  Roger  had  so  well  escaped  the  lawless 
contamination.  What  blessing  can  rest  on  wealth 
so  ill  obtained  !  And  the  man  hath  destroyed  us, " 
he  repeated,  "he  and  Mr.  Mather.  Traitors  to  the 
colony !" 

"I  would  not  say  traitors,  wilful  traitors,  but 
destroyers  natheless — unwittingly  it  may  be. " 
The  lines  deepened  in  Verring's  face. 

"I'd  not  thought  to  hear  an  injustice  from  the 
lips  of  Nicolas  Verring. "  The  man  who  had 
joined  himself  to  them  was  of  Nicolas  Verring's  own 
type.  His  voice  had  the  same  evenness  of  pitch; 
his  sentences  came  with  the  same  weight  and  au- 


146  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

thority.  "Who  hath  worked  for  this  colony  year 
in  and  year  out,  putting  its  welfare  above 'all  earthly 
considerations?  At  peril  of  his  life  in  a  hundred 
encounters — ever  the  first  to  volunteer,  ever  the 
first  to  urge  an  expedition  !  At  the  court  of  James 
who  refused  the  preferment  the  Admiralty  would 
have  bestowed,  choosing  to  serve  New  England 
rather  than  himself?" 

'  'Tis  his  character,  not  his  good  will,"  began 
Munch. 

"And  who  assails  his  character?  Some  sneaking 
thief  of  reputations  whom  his  honesty  hath  offend- 
ed !  How  many  men,  think  you,  friend  Munch, 
would  lose  the  whole  profit  of  a  toilsome  venture  to 
load  his  ship  with  a  village  of  frightened  settlers  flee- 
ing an  attack  ?  And  how  many  men  would  see  a  for- 
tune of  millions  spread  before  them  and  not  be  one 
whit  tempted?  But  what  did  Sir  William?  Ac- 
count for  every  farthing,  and  deal  so  honourably  by 
those  above  and  those  below  him  that  'twas  a  year's 
wonder  in  the  greatest  capital  of  Europe !  He 
hath  character  and  to  spare " 

"You  mistake,  Joshua,"  put  in  Mr.  Verring. 
"  'Tis  the  strength  and  wisdom  needed  to  defend 
our  liberties  wherein  the  Governor  is  lacking.  " 

"Rather  'tis  you  who  mistake!"  The  judicial 
pleading  was  quickened  to  a  livelier  indignation. 
"  Our  liberties  were  never  in  stauncher  hands.  He 
and  Increase  Mather  to  destroy  our  liberties  !  'Tis 
to  them  we  owe  what  we  have  ! " 

Verring  closed  his  lips  in  hard  dissent. 

"The  Charter "  began  Munch  once  more. 

"  'Twas  destroyed  long  before  William  Phips  was 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  147 

knighted.  And  what  asked  he  when  King  James 
would  have  him  name  a  boon  for  his  great  and 
perilous  adventure  of  the  treasure — for  what  did  he 
plead?  For  the  restoration  of  the  charter.  And 
when  it  was  refused,  still  he  importuned,  risking  his 
own  preferment  and  wearying  the  King.  And 
when  he  had  ta'en  Port  Royal,  and  braved  Quebec 
and  came  back  defeated  for  lack  of  those  allies  that 
failed  by  land,  what  did  he  then  ?  Sit  down  by  his 
comfortable  hearth  and  eat  and  drink  and  take  his 
ease?"  The  speaker's  eyes  rested  on  Mr.  Munch. 
"Not  Sir  William!  He  went  again  to  importune 
for  the  conquest  of  Canada,  to  urge  once  more  the 
cause  of  the  Charter.  'Twas  dead  and  mouldered 
in  its  grave,  but  he  would  have  it — and  when  the 
new  King  would  not  heed,  who  besought  the  Queen 
until  she  urged  his  petition  upon  her  absent  spouse  ? 
Mather  and  Phips  destroyers  of  the  Charter  !  They 
risked  their  heads  for  its  resurrection. " 

"Then  they  should  have  refused  the  new." 
Nicolas  Verring's  face  set  in  yet  harder  lines. 

"Refused  and  been  enslaved  !  What  gain  were 
there  in  that !  'Twas  that  or  nothing — and  'tis 
to  them,  I  say,  we  owe  the  freedom  that  it  gives. 
What  other  colony  nameth  her  own  lawmakers? 
And  since  we  must  have  a  Governor  of  the  royal 
choosing,  is't  nothing  that  he  be  of  our  own  people 
— and  not  an  Andros?  " 

"Aye.     But  other  governors  will  follow " 

Christopher  Munch  interrupted  in  his  turn. 
"And  just  at  this  present,  bethink  you,  Joshua 
Travies,  when  New  England  is  set  upon  and  buf- 
feted by  Satan  with  witches  and  devils " 


148  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

His  words  grew  louder  but  became  indistinguish- 
able in  the  brief  tumult  that  rose  in  the  street. 
The  watch  were  clearing  the  road  for  the  Governor's 
escort,  pushing  the  multitude  back  from  the  rough 
flagging  that  marked  the  middle  of  the  way  to  the 
unpaved  walks  on  either  side. 

The  crowd  buzzed  and  swarmed.  In  the  con- 
fusion a  barefooted  lad  mounted  upon  Madam 
Shrimpton's  gate  post  and  none  reproved  him. 
The  gaze  of  Shubael  discovered  him  with  envy. 
The  youngest  Munch  had  listened  eagerly  to  the 
praises  of  Sir  William,  his  round  face  peering  in- 
tently from  the  folds  of  his  mother's  gown. 

The  sound  of  drums  grew  nearer.  Alison  Ver- 
ring  looked  at  her  husband. 

"Roger's  company "  she  began. 

"It  will  follow  the  Governor,"  he  answered,  his 
tone  calmly  indifferent;  but  his  eyes  sought  and 
found  the  young  captain  while  hers  still  searched. 

"  None  of  the  officers  is  so  handsome  as  the  com- 
mander- of  the  third  company.  Twill  follow  the 
Governor, "  whispered  Beulah  Munch  excitedly, 
but  the  other  girl  did  not  hear.  Since  the  first  her 
gaze  had  turned  persistently  toward  the  dock, 
where  the  Nonesuch  frigate  etched  her  delicate 
spars  in  the  soft  sky.  Even  the  distasteful  atten- 
tions of  Jacob  Munch  had  been  unable  to  keep  from 
her  face  a  brightness  as  of  happy  anticipation. 

Beyond  the  second  company  was  a  space,  and 
a  continuous  murmur  ran  wave-like  before  the  im- 
posing figure  that  was  left  thus  conspicuous.  It 
was  plain  that  the  party  of  the  opposition  was  in 
the  minority.  The  welcome  filled  the  air  with 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  149 

warmth,  and  the  enforced  quiet  gave  to  the  sudden 
bursts  of  sound  the  intensity  of  feeling  difficultly 
repressed. 

In  the  open  space  there  rode  also  the  Agent  of 
the  Colony,  Mr.  Mather,  and  the  Lieutenant  Gov- 
ernor, colder  and  harder  for  the  presence  of  his 
chief.  The  eyes  of  the  girl  with  Beulah  Munch 
gave  no  heed  to  either,  no  heed  to  any  save  the 
Governor  himself.  Never  was  maid  or  man  more 
unconscious  of  all  things  near.  Captain  Phips, 
or  Sir  William,  or  the  Governor,  it  was  one  to  her. 
The  same  kindly  face,  the  same  powerful  body,  the 
same  honest  and  dauntless  soul,  were  there.  When 
the  splendid  horse  and  his  splendid  rider  were  com- 
ing, coming  fairly  beneath  the  window,  she  leaned 
yet  farther,  smiling,  a  strange  smile  full  of  a  wonder 
all  its  own. 

Jacob  Munch  saw  the  smile  and  was  puzzled, 
straining  his  memory  to  some  task;  and,  anxious 
to  force  himself  upon  her,  spoke  somewhat  loudly 
at  her  side.  His  voice  had  a  peculiar  quality  of 
unsound  mellowness,  an  overripeness  that  to  her 
was  nauseous. 

The  Governor  looked  up,  and  looking,  gazed 
suddenly  full  into  the  face  of  the  girl.  Swift  change 
came  in  his  expression.  And  as  she  saw  his  gaze 
had  found  her,  she  tore  the  flower  from  her  gown 
and  tossed  it,  smiling  still, as  a  child  might  for  de- 
light; and  the  big  Governor,  bending  forward.with 
his  arm  outstretched,  grasped  it  skilfully,  and  taking 
it  in  his  bridle  hand,  raised  his  plumed  hat,  that  he 
held  an  instant  in  graceful  homage  before  he  set  it 
back  upon  his  head.  Then  the  maid,  watching  him. 


i5o  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

absorbed,  was  all  at  once  aware  of  curious  eyes 
that  focussed  on  herself,  the  eyes  of  the  whole 
multitude  it  seemed,  and  blushing  she  drew  back 
quickly  out  of  sight. 

Madam  Verring  alone,  of  all  the  throng,  had  not 
seen  the  girl.  Her  eyes  had  found  her  son.  In  any 
crowd,  in  any  place,  they  two  most  understood 
each  other,  and  for  his  look  of  recognition  as  he 
marched  past,  the  mother's  heart  had  waited;  yet 
when  he  was  there  before  her,  his  face  had  lighted 
not  for  her  but  for  some  other,  lighted  strangely, 
exultantly,  and  thrilled  with  some  new  excitement, 
had  passed  and  never  turned  her  way. 

Grim  disapproval  sat  upon  her  husband's  fea- 
tures. 

"  What  was  it  ? "  she  asked. 

"Poor  trifling  for  a  governor,"  he  answered. 
"Sir  William  hath  begun  ill.  He  will  find  state- 
craft is  more  than  catching  nosegays.  " 

Lieutenant-Governor  Stoughton  was  plainly  of 
the  same  mind.  Pursing  his  prim  mouth  to  an 
expression  of  hard  and  ladylike  disgust,  he  rode 
even  more  sullenly  than  before. 

One  other  besides  Madam  Verring  had  been 
waiting  for  Roger,  inviting  his  look.  An  angry 
pain  had  seized  her  as  she  saw  the  gaze  he  gave  to 
her  companion,  and  Beulah,  too,  went  home  but 
sadly. 

In  the  growing  twilight  the  column  took  on  the 
majesty  of  a  moving  army.  Before  the  entrance 
to  the  Town  House  the  marching  ranks  drew  up  in 
solid  lines  facing  the  horsemen  as  they  passed 
through.  Behind  came  the  other  companies,  their 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  151 

blue  and  buff  no  longer  distinguishable  save  as 
dark  and  light,  and  after  them,  lumbering  and 
straining  upon  the  hill,  the  mounted  guns. 

Down  below  the  wharves  the  sea  beat  triumph- 
antly upon  the  land,  whelming  the  marshes  with  its 
irrefutable  claim.  Candles  were  being  lighted  in 
the  houses ;  the  chirp  of  crickets  mixed  shrilly  with 
the  deeper  sound  of  orders  given  and  repeated. 
Night  was  flowing  in  upon  the  wide  peninsula,  and 
beneath  its  surface  calm,  as  beneath  the  smooth 
flood  upon  the  marsh,  life  stirred  and  struggled, 
contending  in  the  gloom  with  viewless  cruelties  of 
pain  and  fear,  or  rising  in  the  dim  security  to  un- 
named ecstasies  of  freedom  and  desire. 

Roger  hearing,  heard  nothing,  and  seeing,  was 
as  the  blind ;  he  gave  his  commands  monotonously, 
a  force  acting  apart  from  his  real  consciousness 
someway  conducting  the  business  of  the  hour,  nor 
did  he  know  that  the  day  had  gone. 


CHAPTER  XI 

A    CRY    IN    THE    DARK 

THE  stay  at  the  Town  House  was  brief,  the 
march  to  the  Governor's  residence  not  long, 
but  the  need  for  escape  grew  in  Roger  fast- 
er than  the  movement  of  events. 

Before  the  escort  was  re-formed  to  accompany 
Mr.  Mather,  he  had  slipped  away  into  the  dusk, 
paying  small  heed  to  the  direction  of  his  going  and 
only  anxious  to  avoid  the  crowd  still  pressing  upon 
the  heels  of  the  militia.  His  way  homeward  was 
blocked  by  the  throng;  Green  lane  and  every  alley 
teemed  with  the  interested  multitude,  quiet  as  be- 
came the  beginning  of  the  Sabbath,  yet  alert  for 
meetings  and  bits  of  timely  gossip.  Leaving  the 
road  he  plunged  into  the  darkness  beneath  the  trees 
and  crossed  the  orchard  hastily  toward  the  point  of 
silence. 

As  he  came  forth  once  more  into  the  street,  a 
party  of  young  people,  hastening  to  meet  again 
the  dusk-hid  ranks,  were  almost  upon  him  in  the 
dim  obscurity.  Their  voices,  carefully  lowered, 
were  livelier  for  the  excitement  of  an  unwonted 
freedom.  Roger  avoided  them  instinctively,  mov- 
ing straight  forward  across  the  highway  and,  so, 
on  into  the  narrow  confines  of  Salutation  alley. 
Laughter  came  to  his  ears  from  behind  the  closed 
shutters  of  the  tavern.  The  sign  of  the  Salutation 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  153 

creaked  in  the  sea  breeze,  its  painted  travellers 
extending  stiff  arms  of  greeting  above  his  head. 

He  paused  as  he  drew  near  the  water,  and  set 
himself  upon  the  right  path  once  more,  but  the 
spring  night  had  fast  hold  of  him,  the  spirit  pre- 
vailed above  the  flesh,  and  by  the  time  he  emerged 
from  White-bread  alley  he  was  no  longer  conscious 
whither  his  swift  steps  bore  him. 

Darkness  covered  the  familiar  scene  and  his  soul 
forgot  it.  The  thought  that  had  been  forced  back, 
covered  from  sight,  denied,  in  the  long  minutes  of 
the  march,  now  wreaked  its  will.  It  drove  him 
striding  mightily  as  toward  an  unknown  goal, 
whithersoever  the  way  promised  solitude;  it  rose 
as  an  underground  sea  might  rise  in  some  amazing 
convulsion  of  the  deeps  and  drowned  his  world  in 
the  glorious  agitation  of  its  outpoured  waters. 

Once  he  stopped,  lifting  his  face  to  the  sky,  his 
head  bared  to  the  wind,  and  sighed — a  breath  deep, 
sharply  taken,  given  forth  like  the  whispered  echo 
of  a  sob,  the  voice  alike  of  pain  or  blessed  trans- 
port. Solitude  he  craved,  he  must  have.  Fleeing 
men,  rapt  away  from  the  sight  or  thought  of  them, 
he  had  turned  again  toward  the  deserted  water 
side. 

The  shadows  lay  dark  in  Moon  street.  Hardly 
a  candle  flicker  in  its  whole  length — and  silence, 
filled  with  cricket  calls.  Here  he  slackened  his 
racing  steps,  lingered  in  the  sheltering  dark  and 
dreamed,  seeing  little  even  in  the  dream  for  the 
strength  of  exalted  feeling  that  held  him. 

A  shriek,  agonized,  commanding,  woke  him 
harshly.  A  woman's  scream  and  vile  laughter 


i54  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

that  followed.  Feeling  passed  all  at  once  into 
speed,  into  the  strength  of  avenging  youth. 

The  shriek  was  close  at  hand.  Instantly  he 
knew  where  he  stood.  A  dwindling  triangle  of 
grass  and  weeds  separated  him  from  Fish  street 
and  the  wharves.  Across  it  he  leaped  while  the 
echo  of  the  cry  died  among  the  warehouses. 

His  coming  was  furious,  irresistible.  The  men 
had  no  sooner  heard  footsteps  on  the  cobbles 
than  they  felt  the  hammering  of  his  blows.  Grown 
used  to  the  night,  he  could  distinguish  the  three 
figures  of  the  dissolving  group.  One  slunk  rapidly 
away  into  the  entrance  of  Sun  court,  hiding  in  the 
blackness,  but  the  bully  who  had  laughed,  roused 
into  a  drunken  fury,  was  a  heavy  brute,  and  struck 
out  savagely  for  answer.  The  woman  had  drawn 
back  and  made  no  sound  as  the  brief  combat  pro- 
gressed. 

Roger  had  not  spoken.  The  other  swore  and  his 
oaths  were  unclean,  but  his  weight  and  the  power 
of  his  rage  counted  for  little  against  the  righteous 
frenzy  of  his  assailant,  whom  the  assurance  of  a 
finer  passion  still  uplifted  beyond  the  human,  so 
that  he  vanquished  his  foe  swiftly,  closing  the  foul 
mouth  and  dropping  the  unwieldy  bulk  with  a  pre- 
cision whose  impulse  was  born  of  life  intensified. 

But  the  first  figure  had  crept  from  its  hiding, 
returned  by  some  second  thought  to  the  fray  it 
had  avoided.  Roger  threw  out  his  left  arm  quickly, 
warding  a  stroke  before  it  was  fairly  aimed,  and 
wrenched  a  sword  from  the  man's  hand.  The 
weapon  rattled  on  the  stones  and  the  man  sprang  at 
him  in  a  rage  more  sure,  less  drunken,  than  the 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  155 

fuddled  anger  of  his  companion.  The  grasp  was 
murderous;  it  had  a  staying  power  desperate  and 
vindictive.  Even  as  he  fought,  Roger  wondered 
at  its  tenacity  that  seemed  more  than  retaliation 
for  an  interrupted  frolic.  Strong  loathing  rose  in 
him  at  the  contact  and  with  the  force  of  a  terrific 
revulsion  he  freed  himself  and  hurled  from  him  his 
antagonist.  The  man  had  clapped  his  hand 
quickly  to  his  side  and  his  pistol  discharged  itself 
as  he  fell. 

Down  the  road  the  windows  of  the  Ship  Tavern 
glimmered  upon  the  opaque  dark;  from  the  other 
side  sounded  the  clatter  of  feet  beating  steadily 
toward  them  in  the  wake  of  a  fleering  lantern. 

"The  watch!"  The  exclamation  broke  from 
him  quickly.  "We  must  make  haste.  This  way. 
Come!" 

It  was  thick  shade  even  here  in  the  open.  The 
clouds  were  blown  across  the  early  stars.  Yet 
something  made  him  sure  that  the  woman  was 
young  and  a  stranger.  The  lithe  movements,  the 
uncertainty  about  the  way,  the  hesitation  as  if  she 
expected  to  mount  upon  a  footpath  by  the  margin 
of  the  street  when  very  Boston  maid  knew  that 
footpaths  there  were  none,  all  these  were  confirma- 
tion. And  with  the  word  stranger  another  con- 
viction, unwarranted,  unreasonable,  clutched  him. 
It  was  the  Little  Maid. 

That  miracles  should  be  abroad  in  this  hour — 
miracles  for  him — seemed  to  Roger  both  sane  and 
congruous.  Toward  this  the  night  had  drawn  him 
from  the  Governor's  door.  From  London  to  the 
islands  of  the  sea  to  find  and  rescue  the  Little  Maid 


156  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

— that  surely  had  been  even  more  a  miracle  !  His 
thoughts  were  full  of  a  light,  a  brightness,  the 
shadows  could  not  quench. 

They  had  turned  into  Wood  lane  and  the  watch 
tramped  soberly  past,  unaware  of  their  flitting, 
to  stop  aghast  over  the  reviving  form  of  the  pros- 
trate bully.  The  man  of  the  sword  was  no  longer 
to  be  seen,  nor  did  his  weapon  remain  to  tell  of  his 
presence.  There  was  blood  upon  the  stones,  but, 
save  for  his  bruises,  no  sign  of  injury  about  the 
burly  sailor  who  sprawled  beside  the  stains. 

Roger  was  silent.  In  the  world  to  which  he  had 
again  been  caught  up  speech  jarred  upon  the  actual- 
ity of  things.  As  soon  as  the  way  permitted  the 
girl  addressed  him.  Her  voice  was  constrained 
and  her  fright  still  showed  in  the  attempt  to  sup- 
press all  hint  of  tears. 

"I  thank  you,  Sir,"  she  said.  The  tone  was 
more  eloquent  than  the  formal  distance  of  the 
words.  "I  had  lost  my  way.  I  am  but  newly 
come  to  Boston. " 

The  voice  told  him  nothing.  He  had  been  already 
sure.  But  it  gave  him  remembrance  keen  and 
electric.  His  dreams  had  been  in  the  present. 
Now  he  was  again  on  the  Araby  Rose  and  the  Little 
Maid  was  telling  her  story.  In  the  greater  depth 
and  beauty  of  her  tones  there  lived  still  the  same 
quality,  and  the  fear,  the  struggle  for  control,  had 
made  them  once  more  like  the  child's. 

"Are  you  hurt — did  they "  He  spoke  with 

effort. 

"Nay,"  she  interrupted.  "I  cried  out  the  mo- 
ment they  appeared.  They  but  grasped  my  arms. " 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  157 

She  shrank,  shivering  as  if  sickened  by  the  thought 
of  the  touch.  "One  would  have  thrown  his  cloak 
over  my  head. " 

Roger  suited  their  hurrying  pace  to  a  slower 
climbing  of  the  rough  hill  and  drew  her  arm  farther 
within  his  own.  A  gentle  homage  was  in  the  in- 
voluntary act. 

"  'Tis  unsafe  even  on  the  Sabbath.  Rascals  lie 
often  hid  among  the  docks.  "  He  spoke  at  random, 
almost  unwitting  what  he  said.  In  this  new  en- 
chantment of  a  universe  re-created  he  paid  no  heed 
to  his  own  voice  but  listened  greedily  for  hers.  In 
his  preoccupation  his  tones  lost  the  buoyancy  of 
their  natural  inflections.  They  were  grave,  half- 
monotonous,  as  are  the  voices  of  those  who  speak 
entranced.  In  their  reserve  the  girl  seemed  to  feel 
a  tacit  reproach. 

"I  left  my  friends  before  the  procession  was  at 
the  Town  House.  The  crowd  was  dense.  I  tried 
to  make  my  way  around  it.  But  the  night  came  on 
faster  than  I  had  thought, — and  then  there  seemed 
none  to  ask. "  Her  utterance  was  as  grave  as  his 
own,  and  far  colder. 

"So  long — all  this  time  you  have  wandered!" 
The  sympathy,  almost  the  grief,  of  the  change 
brought  back  her  gratitude  in  a  warm  current. 

"None  had  frightened  me  till — till  I  called.  I 

do  not  know  well  how  I  may  thank  you "  Her 

voice  halted  rather  than  ceased.  The  silence  that 
fell  upon  their  speech  was  as  the  silence  of  the 
spring  night  finely  astir  about  them. 

The  May  was  at  its  loveliest,  the  night  its  su- 
premest  hour,  with  no  discords  to  hinder  the  ful- 


158  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

ness  of  its  harmony,  no  unregarding  eye  to  affront 
with  blindness  its  diviner  charm.  Odours  subtle, 
poignant  with  a  sweetness  that  came  upon  the 
senses  delicately  and  lost  itself  and  returned,  magi- 
cal, to  meet  the  longing  it  had  created;  pale  glim- 
merings from  the  close-crowding  depths  of  new- 
grown  orchards  and  the  thrill  of  breezes  shaken 
through  the  marvel  of  late  apple  blooms  and  pale 
syringa  buds;  above,  the  dark  cloud  mysteries 
brooding  nearer  than  the  skies,  and  blotting  out 
the  far  shine  of  trembling  stars ;  and  everywhere — 
sweeter,  more  poignant,  more  magical  still — dream- 
ful, evanescent,  the  fragrance  of  the  blossoming 
grapes.  The  dark  shut  them  in.  Within  its  void 
they  were  lost,  undiscoverable,  alone. 

To  Roger  it  was  all  but  the  outward  expression 
of  her,  wonderful,  mysterious,  even  in  shadow,  to 
one  who  was  content  to  wait  the  dawn.  For  this 
the  barren  years  had  saved  him.  For  this  his  days 
had  kept  aloof  from  the  crude  dalliance  of  his  fel- 
lows, the  early  mating,  practical  and  uninspired, 
of  the  wilderness.  For  this  he  had  not  heeded 
that  they  called  him  cold,  believed  him  strangely 
lacking,  and  mocked  him  with  good-natured  rail- 
lery, that  even  the  church  had  accused  him,  and 
his  father  commanded  and  rebuked,  holding  his 
example  sinful  and  pernicious.  This  then,  was  the 
reason,  as  if  unknowing,  he  yet  had  known,  beneath 
the  lad's  indifference,  what  quest  was  waiting  for 
the  man. 

"How  beautiful  it  is — the  night!"  the  girl  said 
softly,  her  low  tones  attuned  to  the  whispering 
quiet  of  the  winds.  "  It  is  long  since  I  have  seen  it 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  159 

so.  At  home "  She  stopped  abruptly,  un- 
easily. "How  know  you  whither  I  would  be  go- 
ing?" she  asked. 

"So  far  we  cannot  be  greatly  wrong,"  he  an- 
swered, suddenly  conscious  of  the  remissness  of  his 
thoughts,  for  already  they  were  within  the  shadow 
of  the  Baptist  church,  and  it  had  not  come  to  him 
to  ask  her  way  until  the  instant  before  she  spoke. 
"Is  the  street  known  to  you?"  he  added. 

The  girl  had  paused. 

"I  am  not  sure.  But  from  Judge  Sewall's  or 
from  Captain  Alden's  I  can  find  it. " 

"  It  had  been  somewhat  shorter  had  we  taken  the 
way  below,  but  it  is  not  far.  "  Roger  waited,  long- 
ing for  the  courage  to  turn  resolutely  back,  anxious 
lest  she  should  propose  it.  "It  is  not  far, "  he  re- 
peated, "but  you  are  already  tired " 

"Not  tired,  save  from  fright.  Quickly,"  she 
urged.  "I  must  not  be  later."  She  pressed  on- 
ward rapidly,  hastening  his  steps.  The  influence 
of  the  night  was  gone.  The  daylight  world  was  in 
her  tone,  and  the  trouble  of  her  position,  alone 
and  with  one  unknown  in  the  dark  of  the  streets. 
"  I  grieve,  Sir,  that  I  should  keep  you  so  long  from 
your  own  affairs, "  she  apologized  with  chill  per- 
functoriness. 

Roger  answered  with  quick  deprecation,  feeling 
the  enchantment  dulled.  From  behind  the  shut- 
tered windows  of  the  nearest  house  came  the  sound 
of  psalms  mournfully  intoned.  It  was  the  time  of 
evening  prayers,  and  Nicolas  Verring  would  be 
waiting  in  rigid  repression,  angered  and  suspicious, 
for  his  son.  And  his  son  had  begun  the  sacred  day 


160  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

with  a  street  brawl  and  forgetfulness  of  all 
things' 

Stern,  ascetical,  seers  of  heavenly  visions  and  be- 
lievers in  evil  spirits,  the  men  and  women  in  the 
circle  of  his  Puritan  home  counted  all  joy  of  flesh  or 
spirit  that  was  not  an  ecstasy  of  religious  contem- 
plation a  personal  appeal  of  the  Devil's  subtlety. 
The  night  that  had  been  to  Roger  the  very  incar- 
nation of  delight  was  poisoned,  its  aspiration 
broken  by  the  habitual  sense  of  guilt. 

Of  this  the  girl  knew  nothing.  The  canons  of 
her  world  were  conventional,  not  religious.  The 
gentleness,  the  distance,  of  a  stranger  who  had  none 
of  the  shallow  tricks  of  speech  that  marked  the 
cavaliers  whom  she  had  known,  moved  her  to  a 
growing  confidence.  As  they  went  on  she  spoke 
now  and  again,  naturally,  frankly,  of  her  stupidity 
in  missing  the  way,  of  the  pitfalls  in  the  uncouth 
cobbles,  and  of  the  crooked  lanes  of  Boston, 
already  "a  little  London  in  the  West, "  and  that 
he  must  not  blame  her  friends,  for  that  she  had 
run  away  and  perhaps  her  fright  was  meted  pun- 
ishment. Upon  which  the  heaviness  departed 
from  him  and  was  no  more  remembered  until  he 
left  her. 

"  Why  did  you  run  away  ? "  he  asked  boldly.  He 
could  feel  her  hesitation,  but  her  words  did  not  be- 
tray it. 

"  There  was  one  in  the  party  I  would  avoid,' '  she 
answered. 

"Ah,  then  you  like  him  not !"  He  sighed  with 
sharp  relief,  scarce  realizing  what  he  said,  but  re- 
calling his  pang  at  the  sight  of  Jacob  Munch  bend- 
ing familiarly  near  her  in  the  open  window. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  161 

The  girl's  amazement  brought  her  to  a  stand. 
She  withdrew  her  hand  from  his  arm  as  if  the  better 
to  defend  her  silken  skirts  from  the  ill-kept  paving, 
and  she  did  not  replace  it  as  they  moved  on. 

"  I  saw  him  with  you  in  the  window, "  he  said 
quietly. 

The  girl  made  no  reply,  either  too  resentful  or 
too  much  puzzled  for  answer,  and  he  spoke  again 
after  a  pause.  He  was  conscious  that  he  had 
doubly  erred,  and  had  associated  himself  in  her 
mind  with  the  staring  crowd  from  which  she  had 
been  so  eager  to  escape. 

"You  must  not  judge  too  harshly  of  us  in'  these 
wilds, "  he  said,  his  voice  sunk  to  a  contrite  under- 
tone that  might  not  reach  the  dwellers  near  the 
street.  "We  are  blunt  and  rudely  outspoken, 
but  we  be  not  all  cowards  and  ruffians  ! " 

She  was  still  silent,  but  as  the  road  grew  rougher 
and  they  crossed  behind  the  church  into  the  Old 
Way  by  the  Mill  Pond,  she  slipped  her  hand  once 
more  upon  his  sleeve  and  might  have  felt  the  leap- 
ing welcome,  the  thankful  yielding  to  the  touch,  as 
he  bent  his  arm  to  give  her  better  resting  place. 

They  went  slowly  in  the  uneven  path.  Roger 
could  hear  the  soft  rustle  of  her  gown  even  when 
the  warm  south  wind  was  freest  among  the  tree- 
tops.  Sense  and  inward  sight  were  all  con- 
founded. The  kindly  dark  that  kept  them 
side  by  side  did  not  blot  her  face  from  his  seeing. 
Sometimes  it  was  in  the  periagua  glowing  against 
the  blue;  sometimes  gazing  downward,  radiant  and 
unconscious,  upon  the  Governor;  oftenest,  as  at 
that  moment,  with  none  near  but  himself  to  guess 


162  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

the  loveliness  hidden  in  the  shadows  of  the  blos- 
somed May. 

Yet  that  which  possessed  him  wholly,  inescapa- 
bly, was  herself;  and  it  was  the  spirit  of  her,  brave, 
mirthful,  full  of  laughter  for  the  world ;  tender,  in- 
effable, within  that  inner  citadel  wherein  she  was 
entrenched,  that  held  and  mastered  him.  How  he 
knew  her,  how  the  treasure  so  deeply  hidden,  so 
inaccessibly  far  to  seek,  was  plain  to  him  while  still 
he  waited  before  the  outer  defences  of  her  life,  he 
might  not  have  said.  But  he  knew. 

Beneath  the  grave  distance,  the  apparent  calm, 
that  gave  her  friendly  reassurance,  his  whole 
nature  rose  to  the  height  of  that  for  which  he  longed, 
and  through  their  scattered  talk  showed  itself  in 
sudden  comprehensions,  in  swift  expression  of  the 
thought  she  had  not  uttered.  How  much  or  how 
little  of  this  was  guessed  by  her  she  did  not  betray 
and  he  was  content  that  she  went  beside  him  in  the 
shade  without  fear  and  without  coldness,  meting  to 
him,  as  it  seemed,  what  she  might  have  given  to 
any  one  who  had  set  her  on  her  way. 

"  Have  a  care  here.  'Tis  a  broken  path  and  ill 
to  keep, "  he  cautioned  as  they  got  deeper  into  the 
lane. 

'  'Tis  the  unthinking  who  go  safest, "  she  an- 
swered quickly.  "  To  think  invites  disaster.  "  She 
stopped  suddenly  with  a  little  ejaculation  in  which 
pain  and  a  vexed  sense  of  helplessness  caught  per- 
plexedly. ' '  I  fear  I  must  rest — -I  turned  my  foot 
upon  the  stones " 

Grief  for  the  pain,  anger  at  his  own  selfishness  in 
bringing  her  by  the  longer  way  fought  against  his 
grasping  joy  in  the  added  minutes. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  163 

Swiftly  he  found  her  a  seat  on  the  trunk  of  a 
willow  bent  camel- wise  to  the  ground.  Every  tree 
and  rock  of  the  place  was  known  to  him.  The 
way  they  travelled  led  past  his  own  door. 

"  'Tis  easier  now.  The  riband  of  my  shoe  had 
pressed  somewhat  too  harshly. "  The  girl's  tone 
was  relieved.  Roger  leaning  upon  the  trunk  left 
erect  beside  its  twisted  mate  turned  toward  her, 
not  daring  to  repeat  his  offer  of  aid. 

"  If  it  be  a  sprain,  'twere  best  bound  firmly,  "  he 
said  marvelling  at  the  commonplace  of  his  words. 
How  long  must  she  have  kept  her  pace  beside  him 
stabbed  at  every  step  by  the  keenness  of  the  pang, 
hoping  to  find  her  destination  before  endurance 
failed. 

"  'Tis  nothing  so  unkind  as  a  sprain — but  '  'twill 
serve' ! "  Her  voice,  low  and  clear  with  the  suffer- 
ing hopefully  suppressed,  heartened  him. 

"Mercutio  was  worse  wounded  than  he  said. 
How  may  I  know  'tis  not  the  same  with  you  ! " 

"By  the  proof,"  she  answered  promptly,  essay- 
ing to  rise  but  forced  back  again  upon  her  seat. 
"  Wait  but  a  little  till  I  loose  the  other  band.  It  is 
no  more  than  a  bruise.  The  stone  was  sharp.  'Tis 
a  sin  to  so  detain  you,  sir.  You  are  most  patient.  " 
Her  voice  had  lost  the  child's  dependence  and  gave 
but  frank  and  formal  acknowledgment. 

Roger's  mind  worked  rapidly,  his  plan  ready  if  it 
appeared  she  could  not  walk.  At  any  hazard 
she  should  be  saved  from  the  petty  gossip  of  the 
town.  But  his  words,  solicitous,  disclaiming 
thanks,  took  instantly  the  note  of  her  own,  match- 
ing her  formality  with  more  careful  distance. 


164  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Even  in  her  helplessness  there  was  a  strength  in 
her  presence,  positive  and  regnant.  Roger  recog- 
nized it,  unassertive  as  it  was  for  any  weaker  com- 
prehension. It  increased  his  tenderness.  Here 
was  one  who  would  ask  no  ease  from  others,  beg 
with  no  soft  pleadings  for  sympathy  and  support, 
one  who  would  hide  her  griefs,  her  needs,  where 
only  love  stronger  than  her  reticence  might  come 
to  share  them.  To  serve  the  weak  is  knightly, 
but  to  serve  the  strong  is  more  surely  blessed. 
He  seemed  to  look  upward  to  immeasurable 
heights  to  find  her,  and  all  the  while  to  know  the 
joy  her  yielded  trust  would  be. 

"Then  the  good  Mercutio  hath  friends  in  Boston 
even  though  there  be  no  playhouses,  "  she  was  say- 
ing as  she  made  a  more  successful  venture  to  stand 
upright. 

"Not  so  many  as  he  deserves,"  Roger  replied, 
coming  anxiously  to  her  assistance.  "Be  careful — 
I  pray  you  !  We  are  close  on  the  water's  edge.  " 

She  had  brought  keenly  to  him  an  unforgotten 
martyrdom,  the  burning  of  his  mother's  Shakes- 
peare— his  stolen  kingdom,  wrested  from  him  and 
dismembered  with  unloving  hands. 

The  Maid  took  her  first  steps  firmly,  making 
light  of  his  anxiety.  The  air  had  grown  warmer, 
beating  on  them  in  soft  waves  of  heat,  a  touch  of 
the  summer's  maturer  fervour  in  the  sweetness  of  the 
New  England  spring.  The  earth  was  cradled  in 
the  warmth,  a  warmth  to  be  recalled  with  hope 
even  when  it  should  be  repented  in  sleety  rain  and 
winds  out  of  the  biting  east.  It  made  a  refuge  of 
thedark,  and  eased  the  strain  upon  men's  thoughts, 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  165 

giving  repose  to  nerves  too  winter-worn  and 
tense. 

To  Roger  it  brought  not  so  much  repose  as  free- 
dom. The  fear  of  self-betrayal,  the  trammelling 
doubt  of  his  own  wish  or  word,  had  gone,  and  left 
him  unconstrained,  franker  even  than  the  maid ;  for 
though  the  fair  directness  of  her  speech  was  marred 
by  no  pretended  coyness,  it  opened  to  him  no  ap- 
proach. Neither  in  the  short  rest  beside  the  water 
nor  after  in  the  deserted  thoroughfares  did  its 
barriers  weaken.  If  she  deemed  he  might  have 
rated  her  too  freely  for  her  greeting  of  the  Governor, 
with  this  escapade  to  add  to  its  strangeness,  she 
showed  at  least  how  far  she  was  from  easy  friend- 
liness. 

And  yet  happiness  was  strong  in  the  man,  and 
only  a  sense  of  her  suffering  prevailed  to  give  it 
pause.  As  he  talked,  following  the  play  of  his  own 
fancy  for  the  first  time  allowed  to  have  its  way,  he 
grew  never  flippant;  beneath  the  shoreward  ripple 
of  their  broken  and  desultory  speaking  sounded 
ever  the  oncoming  tide. 

If  some  sure  consciousness  within  herself  was 
fused  by  the  fine  alchemy  of  the  night  to  oneness 
with  his  mood  it  sunk  itself  in  silence;  and  for  his 
unfathomed  consciousness  of  her  there  was  no 
token  save  in  a  remoter  homage.  Still  it  had  been 
a  spirit  dull  of  apprehension  that  had  not  felt  the 
appeal,  electrical  and  potent,  of  what  their  speech 
denied. 

At  her  gate  she  dismissed  him  somewhat  coldly. 

"  I  see  there  is  a  stranger  within,  or  Madam  and 
her  brother  should  add  their  thanks  to  mine, "  she 
said  with  neutral  courtesy. 


166  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

A  strain  of  music  had  broken  in  upon  the  words, 
the  first  notes  of  a  violin  skilfully  played.  Roger 
could  see  the  vines  that  trailed  upon  the  walls  blown 
in  loose  tendrils  across  the  lighted  panes.  The 
lilt  of  the  melody  was  new  to  him.  His  feeling 
answered  it  as  sound  follows  the  bow.  It  woke 
upon  the  echo  of  her  coldness  like  the  return  of  the 
night's  enchantment,  controlling,  assonant. 

He  moved,  to  answer  her,  his  voice  chiming  with 
the  melody,  the  same  thrill  in  its  low  modulations ; 
and  as  he  moved,  the  yellow  light  streamed  in  a 
golden  mist  across  his  face.  He  had  lifted  his  hat 
from  his  head  for  his  farewell,  and  the  comeliness 
that  his  inmost  soul  regarded  with  aversion,  that 
had  been  made  his  reproach  and  scorn  through- 
out his  life,  came  all  at  once  upon  the  girl's  await- 
ing sight. 

Strong-featured,  cleanly  framed  in  the  early  New 
England  mould  where  the  survivals  had  need  to  be 
the  best,  there  was  nothing  shambling  or  uncouth 
in  the  figure  the  light  but  half  disclosed.  The 
charm  of  it,  the  difference,  lay  in  something  that 
had  ever  puzzled  his  father  and  sent  a  contentment 
ill-shepherded  by  fears  to  his  mother's  heart. 

It  may  be  that  the  look  he  turned  to  her,  the 
look  the  night  had  wrought,  made  nobler  revela- 
tion than  his  words.  A  change  came  in  her  voice — 
her  face  still  in  the  shadow — and  there  was  in  the 
iteration  of  her  own  words  a  sudden  faith. 

"  I  cannot  say — how  much  I  thank  you,  Sir. " 

Involuntarily  she  held  out  her  hand  to  meet  his, 
outstretched  for  it,  and  the  grasp  gave  into  her 
keeping  something  of  the  real  Roger  Verring  that 
his  father  would  never  know. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  167 

And  if  the  look,  the  clasp,  the  clasp  of  force  made 
gentle  without  loss,  went  with  her  as  she  entered, 
it  was  they  that  armoured  her  with  a  profound  and 
gracious  dignity  as  she  met  Sir  Humphrey  Wild- 
glass,  so  that  he  cast  upon  her  a  sudden  glance  that 
questioned  her  composure. 

Roger,  turning  backward  as  he  went,  saw  but 
the  deep  obeisance  of  this  stranger  of  the  violin 
and  the  smiling  gallantry  that  gave  admiring  wel- 
come to  the  maid. 

Sharp  anger  and  foreboding  torture  struck  rend- 
ing claws  through  all  the  substance  of  his  dream. 
The  night  grew  heavy  and  its  deeps  but  better 
hiding  for  the  things  of  dread.  The  wind  brought 
dampness  and  the  chill  of  unknown  sorrows  in  its 
breath. 

Yet  his  pulses,  fervent  still  to  heed  the  vibrant 
touch  of  her  hand  within  his  own,  sank  to  no  slower 
measure,  and  as  he  retraced  his  way,  the  warmth 
of  memory  battled  with  the  gloom,  and  the  soft 
ministry  of  the  night  came  back  in  mingled  pain 
and  hope. 


CHAPTER  XII 

IN   THE    FOREST   OF   FEARS 

"  This  world  is  a  forest  of  fears, 
Where  each  sinner  must  strive  for  his  soul. " 

THE  tide  was  low  in  Mill  Creek  and  the  water 
from  the  Pond,  creeping  over  the  dam  and 
around  the  sluice  gates,  fell  with  a  sharp 
trickle  into  the  canal.     In  the  depressing  quiet  of 
the  evening  the  salty  waters  leaking  toward  the 
sea  from  their  imprisonment   upon  the  land  had 
to  Roger  a  sound  of  drear  futility. 

To  the  jealous  wretchedness  that  kept  before 
him  the  picture  of  Sir  Humphrey,  new  pain  was 
added  as  he  traversed  the  familiar  streets.  Con- 
science, the  Puritan  self-consciousness  forever 
irritated  with  unnatural  remorse,  arraigned  him 
brutally.  Against  the  turmoil  of  his  thoughts  it 
matched  the  Sabbath  calm ;  against  the  bare  sever- 
ity of  Boston  ways  it  held  up  the  gay  complexity  of 
a  world  he  had  not  known.  All  that  was  best  and 
finest,  all  that  was  strenuous  and  ideal,  in  the  sim- 
pler world  gave  garish  unreality  to  the  warmth  and 
colour  by  which  he  had  been  drawn.  Perfume  and 
brightness,  the  "delight  of  the  eye  and  the  pride 
of  life" — how  the  mere  joy  of  bodily  existence  had 
thrilled  him !  And  on  the  day  hallowed  for  the 
service  of  Heaven  how  his  soul  had  yielded  itself  to 
the  fiddler's  skill  so  that  it  yet  craved  mightily  for 
more  of  that  subtle  excitation  ! 

168 


THE  COAST  OP  FREEDOM  169 

And  the  Maid !  Shut  away  from  him  by  bar- 
riers that  made  her  an  alien,  built  around  with 
conceptions,  prejudices,  hatreds,  for  all  that  he  held 
sacred — counting  men  like  Nicolas  Verring  as  cant- 
ing hypocrites  and  the  homely  labors  of  pioneers 
as  degradation — how  should  she  be  reached  by 
him?  Even  if,  abandoning  every  loyalty  that 
claimed  his  faith,  he  gave  his  all,  body  and  soul,  in 
feverish  warfare  with  these  bristling  distances  be- 
tween, what  chance  had  he?  How  should  the 
sombre  provincial  hope  to  win  against  a  gallant 
like  him  who  had  bowed  before  her  in  the  lighted 
room,  whose  graces  were  brought  from  her  home 
across  the  sea,  whose  language  was  her  own  and 
grated  with  no  unpleasant  harshness  of  the  un- 
familiar ? 

Early  as  it  was,  few  windows  were  still  alight,  even 
the  Orange  Tree  Inn  showing  no  glimpse  or  gleam 
of  a  yellow  ray.  At  the  head  of  Cross  street,  its 
wide  acreage  of  land  leading  back  through  the 
blossoming  trees  to  the  Old  Way  by  the  Pond,  the 
house  of  Nicolas  Verring  dominated  its  fellows. 
It  was  of  stone,  uncompromising  in  outline,  mas- 
sive as  prisons  are,  and  far  more  stoutly  built  than 
the  prison  of  its  own  town,  whose  sunken  sills  let 
in  the  winter  cold  and  little  drifts  of  snow  upon  the 
victims  it  immured.  No  flowers  broke  the  grassy 
circuit  of  the  yard,  save  where  a  clump  of  lilacs 
had  waved  their  purple  fronds  beneath  Roger's 
window  every  springtime  since,  a  tiny  lad,  he  had 
first  waked  in  the  unsullied  dawn  to  know  their 
fragrance  in  his  room.  Every  year  Nicolas  Ver- 
ring threatened  to  cut  them  down.  Every  year 
Madam  Verring  interceded  and  they  remained. 


1 70          THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"The  snare  of  the  senses,"  the  man  had  re- 
peated with  each  renewal  of  the  contest.  "Some- 
times it  feareth  me  to  think,  Alison,  that  Roger 
hath  from  thee  so  strong  a  yearning  for  the  things 
of  earth.  Surely  never  yet  did  I  give  inordinate 
affection  to  that  which  had  no  soul.  " 

The  words  came  back  to  Roger's  mind  as  he 
climbed  the  hill.  He  had  listened  in  his  earliest 
years  with  a  fast-beating  heart,  feeling  in  some 
occult  child  fashion  the  symbolism  of  the  purple 
blooms.  His  mother  had  taken  meekly  the  re- 
proach; a  flush  of  guilty  assent  had  risen  ever  in 
her  cheeks,  and  she  had  looked  warningly  first  at 
her  husband,  then  at  the  too  attentive  child. 

"I  also  fear  it,  Nicolas,"  she  had  answered 
calmly.  "It  hath  seemed  to  me  the  voice  of  God 
spoke  to  me  in  the  flowers,  but  I  have  striven  to 
overcome  the  thought, "  quenching  the  light  in  the 
child's  eyes  swiftly  lest  what  her  words  had  kindled 
prove  of  the  Devil.  '  'Tis  ever  too  easy  to  mis- 
take our  pleasure  for  a  Higher  Will.  " 

Her  very  meekness  had  disarmed  the  rebuke. 
Afterward  she  had  been  quieter,  a  sadness  settled 
in  her  eyes  and  about  her  mouth,  at  other  times 
prone  to  smiles  instead  of  sighs.  Once  she  had 
wept.  The  child's  impression  rose  suddenly  from 
that  strange  sub-consciousness  that  overflows  the 
past,  full  of  the  impotence  of  pained  revolt.  A 
great  weight  rested  on  his  heart.  He  paused  a 
moment  at  the  gate  and  looked  soberly  at  the 
forbidding  shadow  of  his  home.  The  memory 
took  form  in  the  shadow  clearer  than  the  shapes 
of  the  night  but  mingled  with  them.  The  inner 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  171 

life  in  which  the  boy  had  grown  became  daily  more 
vivid  with  the  man,  the  outer  more  and  more  a 
husk  attached  nowhere  to  his  real  self  save  as  a 
shelter  to  its  nakedness. 

"Thou  lovest  the  lad  more  than  is  consistent 
with  his  welfare.  "  His  father's  warning  utterance 
returned  to  him,  distinct  and  cheerless.  "  'Tis  thy 
way  to  love  too  greatly.  'Tis  rather  a  stumbling 
block  than  a  fitting  guidance. " 

"Have  I  been  a  'stumbling  block'  to  thee, 
Nicolas  ? "  his  mother  had  asked  in  a  voice  so  low 
it  had  seemed  but  the  voice  of  the  spirit. 

Nicolas  Verring  had  waited  before  he  answered. 
When  he  had  spoken  his  own  voice  had  been  less 
didactic. 

"  'Tis  meet  a  woman  should  give  homage  to  her 
husband,"  he  had  replied.  "He  is  her  natural 
head,  as  is  Christ  to  the  Church.  'Tis  not  in  reason 
that  his  greater  strength  should  thereby  suffer 
harm.  "  His  voice  had  grown  hard  again  with  the 
cold  severity  of  the  lawgiver  and  the  judge.  Lines 
of  famine  had  cut  themselves  about  the  mother's 
sensitive  lips.  A  heat  of  miserable  rage  had  burned 
smotheringly  in  the  lad's  heart.  Then  Nicolas 
Verring  had  rested  his  hand  upon  his  wife's  head 
in  a  swift  gesture  of  retraction. 

" Nay,  Alison, "  he  said,  "the  fault  be  mine  if  my 
need  of  thee  be  too  quick  for  a  higher  need.  How 
should  I  lead  thee  upward,  my  own  eyes  being 
cast  upon  the  ground?" 

The  hardness  in  his  father's  voice  had  been 
changed  to  a  shriller  note,  a  note  of  strain,  of  anx- 
ious striving,  heard  often  in  the  long  climax  of  his 


172  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

prayers  and  carrying  to  the  child's  soul  a  sense  of 
awe,  of  woe  impending,  scarce  to  be  averted.  His 
mother  had  risen  at  the  words,  gladness  breaking 
through  her  look  of  grief. 

"  I  would  sooner  die  than  be  to  thee  a  hindrance, 
a  makeweight,  Nicolas,  "  she  had  said,  still  low  but 
with  a  kind  of  passion  new  to  the  boy.  "  I  would 
ever  be  to  thee  a  better  wife,  worthier  to  walk  with 
tfeee  in  the  higher  fellowship. " 

It  was  then,  for  the  first  time,  the  little  lad  had 
seen  how  beautiful  his  mother  was.  He  remem- 
bered, as  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  gate  and  waited 
before  the  silent  house.  He  had  heard,  since,  that 
of  all  the  maids  of  Plymouth,  Alison  Cole  had  been 
esteemed  most  wonderfully  fair.  Comprehension 
of  the  father's  look,  the  look  of  struggle,  came  to 
Roger  in  the  illumination  that  sometimes  shows 
the  unexplored  within  our  own  domain.  And  that 
remembered  talk  had  been  many  years  before, 
when  his  father  had  been  but  little  older  than  the 
present  Roger.  Was  it  this  same  madness  that 
Nicolas  Verring  had  fought  down,  this  same  un- 
namable  tenderness  and  joy  ? 

Oppressed  with  the  sense  of  treason  to  his  home, 
he  grew  wretched  unspeakably,  wrought  upon  by 
the  certainty  of  his  own  evil  will,  tortured  in  all 
his  frank  outspoken  nature  with  a  consciousness 
that  would  be  held  a  mortal  sin.  For  he  knew, 
even  in  the  gloom  of  stern  abasement,  that  the  fire 
the  night  had  kindled  would  burn  with  a  stronger 
glow  for  every  adverse  wind  of  doubt  and  that  he 
should  not  pray  to  be  delivered  from  either  its 
compelling  warmth  or  its  unrelenting  pain.  Was 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  173 

he  indeed  unfit  to  be  the  son  of  Nicolas  Verring 
and  Alison,  his  wife  ? 

He  swung  back  the  gate  and  walked  steadily  up 
the  path,  hearing  still  his  mother's  voice.  So  in  a 
kind  of  humbleness  of  frame  he  opened  the  massive 
door  and  entered.  His  mother's  eyes,  anxious, 
questioning,  were  upon  him  as  he  lifted  the  latch. 
Something  he  had  always  found  before  seemed 
lacking  from  their  confidence. 

The  candles  in  their  silver  candlesticks  shone 
vaguely  on  her  smooth  hair;  on  her  dress,  speckless, 
plain,  and  costly  as  became  her  station;  on  the 
straight  collar  of  lace  whereon  even  yet  her  hus- 
band was  wont  to  comment  doubtfully;  and  upon 
the  face  still  fair,  still  sensitive,  but  grown  less  facile 
to  the  touch  of  feeling  held  so  ruthlessly  in  sub- 
jection. 

The  room  was  dim  save  in  the  circle  of  the  two 
candles,  the  fire  long  since  banked  for  the  night. 
Faint  gleams  shot  from  the  polished  brass  of  the 
andirons  and  from  the  china  ranged  upon  the  wall. 
The  carved  settle  and  the  rush-bottomed  chairs, 
the  tall  cupboard  and  the  walnut  desk,  peopled 
the  dimness  with  black  shapes.  The  silence  was 
grave,  full  of  a  grim  suspense. 

Nicolas  Verring  sat  in  the  leather-cushioned  seat 
his  father  had  brought  from  Devon,  and  the  mon- 
sters upon  its  upright  posts  peered  at  Roger  from 
either  side  the  set  and  accusing  features.  He  was 
rigidly  upright,  neither  lounging  nor  leaning,  his 
Bible  open  on  his  knee.  The  mother's  gaze  turned 
from  Roger's  face  and  sought  her  husband's.  He 
read  on  till  the  chapter  was  ended,  placed  the  mark 
at  the  point  upon  which  his  eye  had  last  rested, 
and  closed  the  book. 


174  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Roger  had  moved  toward  his  mother  impulsively 
as  if  to  speak,  but  at  his  father's  look  he  waited. 

"Where  hast  thou  kept  the  Sabbath  eve?" 

The  words,  natural  in  themselves,  conveyed  the 
accusation  of  the  look.  They  might  have  been  the 
words  of  a  public  prosecutor,  so  positive  they 
seemed  in  a  prejudgment  of  evil  doing.  The  hu- 
mility went  out  of  the  son  as  he  heard.  He  had 
been  condemned  and  by  a  method  unjust,  inexor- 
able. His  mother's  expression  had  lost  already  its 
first  aloofness.  Her  eyes  dwelt  on  him,  confident  of 
his  truth. 

Roger  saw  nothing  of  the  confidence.  He  had 
fixed  his  gaze  upon  his  father's  face  and  his  look 
was  as  direct,  as  unbending,  as  the  one  he  met.  In 
the  first  heat  of  his  resentment  he  kept  silence. 
His  father  waited  but  briefly.  An  arbitrariness 
inevitable  to  him  who  believes  himself  Heaven- 
appointed  interpreter  and  administrator  of  the 
divine  decrees  added  a  peremptory  coldness  to 
his  command. 

"Speak,  Sir." 

"  I  tarried  to  guide  a  stranger  lost  in  the  streets. " 

The  sense  of  un worthiness,  of  failure,  was  gone; 
the  painful  presentiment  of  this  very  battle — the 
contest  renewed  of  nature  and  fanaticism,  the 
oppression  of  his  thoughts,  lifted.  A  kind  of 
strength  born  of  the  contempt  for  injustice  was 
growing  within  him. 

In  every  line  of  his  figure  he  was  himself  a  Verring. 
The  erectness  of  a  carriage  none  too  pliant  in  the 
elders  was  softened  in  him  to  something  less  stiff,  a 
certain  unlovely  obstinancy  of  gait  mobilized  to 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  175 

gentler  freedom  in  the  younger  man.  But  the 
power  of  resistance,  the  vigour  of  insistent,  un- 
thwartable  personality,  was  as  virile,  as  deter- 
mined, the  steel  of  the  Verring  will  as  unbreakable, 
as  if  it  had  been  more  harshly  sheathed.  In  his 
voice  was  less  impatience,  more  self-mastery,  than 
in  his  father's. 

To  Nicolas  Verring,  this  very  erectness,  this  fear- 
lessness, was  doubly  evidence  of  a  hardened  heart. 

"Another  drunkard  shielded  in  his  crime?"  he 
demanded  inflexibly.  "Another  maid  protected 
in  her  wantonness  ?  What  affinity  hath  my  son 
with  wine-bibbers  and  harlots  ? " 

"Thou  art  wrong,  sir.  "  Roger  did  not  raise  his 
voice,  but  a  white  fire  of  indignation  seemed  to 
purify  the  air  of  his  father's  spoken  thought.  "And 
as  for  poor  Rumney,  'twas  the  King's  agent  led 
him  astray  and  he  was  but  a  lad.  'Twould  have 
killed  Dame  Rumney  had  the  boy  been  set  in  the 
pillory  for  the  town  to  mock  at.  And  for  the  maid 
who  walked  with  him,  she  was  as  innocent  as  any, 
save  for  the  imprudence,  Whom  should  a  man 
protect,  I'd  ask  to  know?  Are  there  none  weak 
but  cripples  ?  And  had  she  been  bad  as  the  worst, 
'twas  Christ  Himself  protected  Mary  of  Magda- 
lene!" 

Had  he  blasphemed, no  greater  horror  could  have 
repudiated  his  utterance. 

"With  thy  countenance  thou  but  sendest  them 
farther  on  the  road  to  Hell.  'Tis  work  the  Devil 
prospers,  and  doing  it  thy  foot  is  entered  already 
on  the  way  that  leadeth  to  destruction. " 

The  anxious  intentness  of  the  mother  approved 
the  words. 


176  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"  They  that  touch  pitch  shall  be  defiled,  "  Nicolas 
Verring  ended  with  solemn  emphasis. 

"Then  'twere  well  we  went  not  to  meeting," 
answered  the  son  recklessly.  "There's  pitch  there 
in  high  places  would  make  poor  Rumney  look  spot- 
less enough  ! " 

"Silence,  Sir!"  The  imperious  will  of  the  elder 
raged  in  the  new  command.  "Who  taught  thee  to 
slander  the  righteous  and  to  uphold  the  wicked? 
What  is  my  offence  before  God  that  my  son,  my 
only  son,  should  be  a  byword  and  a  hissing  to  the 
chosen  people?"  He  rose  vehemently,  strong 
misery  in  his  convulsed  face.  "Judge  Sewall 
leaneth  upon  his  Samuel,  even  Christopher  Munch 
may  dwell  with  pride  upon  his  Jacob " 

"Aye — a  'Jacob'  indeed!"  interjected  Roger 
unheard. 

"While  I, — I  must  be  shamed  in  the  sight  of 
men " 

"Nay,  Nicolas."  The  mother's  protest  came 
with  a  sharp  recoil  upon  the  word.  "Roger  hath 
never  shamed  thee " 

"  'Tis  ever  thus  thou  wouldst  shield  him,  woman  ! 
I  say  again  'tis  to  send  him  the  faster  to  damnation. 
'Tis  for  this  I  am  guilty — that  I  put  not  an  end  to 
it  long  since.  Beware  that  in  the  wicked  indul- 
gence of  thy  weakness  thou  hast  not  his  soul  to  thy 
account ! " 

The  accusation  so  fiercely  turned  upon  herself 
beat  down  the  wife's  interference  with  a  mortal 
dread.  Had  she  destroyed  her  son  ? 

"If  I  am  saved  'twill  be  the  faith  of  my  mother 
saves  me."  Roger's  words  were  low,  carrying 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  177 

their  own  conviction.  "She  hath  belief  in  my 
honour.  Even  Rufus  Gillam  believed  my  word, 
but  a  criminal  hath  more  chance  with  Nicolas  Ver- 
ring  than  his  son.  " 

"Roger!" 

The  mother  gazed  fearfully  at  the  two,  so  alike  in 
their  antagonism,  so  necessary  to  each  other,  so 
brutally  tearing  at  the  quick  of  each  other's  life. 
If  Roger  had  been  given  a  mother  more  like  his 
father  this  need  not  have  been. 

"  He  that  denies  his  Maker  and  reviles  the  right- 
eous will  hardly  spare  his  father.  "  The  allusion  to 
Captain  Gillam  had  touched  Nicolas  Verring  where 
he  was  most  vulnerable,  in  his  pride  of  infallibility, 
and  in  his  distrust  of  the  influences  to  which  he  had 
exposed  the  boy. 

He  had  seated  himself  again.  Roger  walked  up 
and  down  the  room,  a  clairvoyant  sense  of  his  fath- 
er's grief  fastened  on  him  in  wretched  compunc- 
tion. 

"  No  more  of  thy  idle  evasions  !  Where  hast  thou 
spent  the  evening  of  the  Sabbath?"  The  com- 
punction died.  His  father's  tone  made  an  atmos- 
phere in  which  it  could  not  live.  "Another  brawl ! " 
The  man  pointed  in  bitter  triumph  to  the  blood 
upon  Roger's  hand.  It  had  trickled  through  the 
fingers  from  the  cut  made  by  the  sword. 

"The  rapier  of  a  drunken  vagabond — one  of  two 
whom  I  beat  off  with  some  trouble,  "  the  son  began. 
Madam  Verring  half  rose  from  her  chair.  Her 
face,  white  already,  could  have  gone  no  whiter. 
"  'Tis  nothing,  mother.  'Twill  barely  show  when 
'tis  bathed, "  he  reassured  her  quickly. 


178  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  father's  features  had  but  sharpened  to  great- 
er sternness. 

"Where  found'st  thou  brawlers  betwixt  here 
and  Mr.  Mather's?" 

A  slight  consciousness  appeared  for  the  first  time 
in  Roger's  manner,  but  he  did  not  hesitate. 

"They  were  on  Fish  street,  by  the  entrance  to 
Sun  court " 

"  What  brought  thee  there?" 

"I  heard  a  cry.  The  bullies  were  frightening  a 
woman.  I " 

"A  woman!  What  manner  of  woman  goes 
abroad  at  such  an  hour  and  in  that  neighbourhood  ? 
Another  'innocent'  belike!" 

The  younger  man  stood  for  an  instant  rigid. 
His  whole  being  swirled  in  the  vortex  of  a  consum- 
ing anger.  The  words  came  like  defilement  upon 
the  purity  of  his  exaltation  and  they  drove  him  in 
involuntary  disgust  and  loathing  to  a  more  hopeless 
distance.  When  he  spoke  his  voice  was  violent  in 
suppression. 

"  'Tis  not  Christian  so  to  wrong  the  guiltless. 
The  maid  was  a  stranger,  lost  and  terrified,  and 
gave  me  no  more  than  civil  thanks,  not  even  her 
name. " 

"'Maid'!"  The  cold  edge  of  the  father's  con- 
tempt drew  across  a  bare  nerve.  The  rasp  of  it 
went  through  the  son  in  a  rage  insensate  as  mania. 

"Wert  thou  another  man  I  could  kill  thee  for 
that  sneer,  "  he  cried  below  his  breath. 

His  mother  stepped  suddenly  before  him;  lofty 
reproof  blazed  in  her  eyes. 

"Thou  canst  speak  so  to  the  father  whose  great- 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  179 

est  wish  is  thy  welfare  !  And  all  because  he  hath 
wonder  at  a  maid  who  goeth  wandering  alone  and 
at  the  wharfside  in  the  night !  What  spell  is  on 
thee  ?  What  of  this  woman  ? " 

Roger  had  shrunk  more  at  the  echo  of  his  own 
words  than  at  her  reproaches.  He  looked  dazed, 
worn  with  the  pain  of  stabs  given  and  received. 

"  'Tis  as  I  said,"  he  repeated.  "She  is  a  stran- 
ger and  had  lost  her  way — trying  to  get  past  the 
crowd  around  the  Town  House.  While  she  wan- 
dered the  dusk  came  on.  "  His  gaze  was  straightly 
on  his  mother's. 

"  And  how  came  it  thou  wast  near  ? "  she  asked 

"I  left  my  company  at  the  Governor's " 

"  What ! "  put  in  his  father  sharply. 

"The  press  was  thick  about  Green  lane  and  I 
crossed  by  Sir  William's  orchard " 

"Thou,  an  officer,  left  thy  company,  without 
reason !" 

"  'Twas  an  impulse — to  escape  the  throng.  " 

"Thou'rt  the  first  Verring  to  desert  a  soldier's 
post  for  such  an  'impulse'.  Art  thou  a  weakling? 
And  was't  'impulse '  guided  thee  to  Fish  street  ? " 

"I  was  absent,  Sir.  I  hardly  know  which  way  I 
went. "  The  taunt  was  answered  quietly.  Mem- 
ory of  his  moment's  frenzy,  the  horror  of  his  own 
words  whose  meaning  no  Puritan  born  could  lightly 
forget  still  subdued  his  wrath.  But  though  his  tone 
was  quiet,  a  flush  rose  in  his  cheeks  so  that  his 
mother  saw,  and  Nicolas  Verring,  peering  upon  his 
son  with  a  host  of  evil  imaginings  poisoning  the 
look,  saw  too,  but  his  interpretation  was  other  than 
the  mother's. 


i8o  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"The  truth,  Sir.  Do  not  lie,  "  he  shouted.  The 
white  heat  of  his  anger  hissed  in  the  words.  They 
sounded  loud  as  thunderclaps  in  the  ears  of  those 
who  heard,  and  none  replied.  All  were  standing. 
Nicolas  Verring  in  his  frowning  wrath  grew  more 
terrible.  Formidable,  waiting,  his  eyes  held  a 
steelly  grasp  upon  his  son. 

The  son  returned  the  gaze  steadfastly.  The  hor- 
ror with  which  he  had  recognized  his  own  ' '  I  could 
kill  thee"  was  no  deeper  than  his  horror  at  this 
more  deadly  thrust.  Something  seemed  lost,  gone 
for  all  time,  in  the  tie  which  bound  him  to  his 
father. 

"Roger,  wilt  thou  answer  thy  mother?"  She 
had  drawn  nearer,  her  hand  upon  his  arm.  "  I  be- 
lieve thy  word — thy  father's  son  will  not  falsify  his 
word — but  my  heart  is  sore.  Who  is  this  maid? 
Was't  she  in  Madam  Fitch's  window?  How  came 
the  girl  hither  ?  With  whom  does  she  abide  ? " 

"  Nay,  mother,  "  Roger  looked  down  at  her  grave- 
ly.— "She  said  naught  of  herself,  but  she  bides  with 
the  strangers  lately  come  to  the  house  that  was  the 
Widow  Pullen's. " 

"  Hadst  thou  seen  her  before  ? " 

"  I  saw  her  at  the  window.  "  His  eyes  darkened. 
He  seemed  older.  The  man  Roger,  no  longer  the 
boy. 

"  Thou  hadst  never  seen  her  before  that  ?  Never 
in  London  when  thou  wast  there  ? " 

"No."  The  denial  came  impatiently  from  his 
lips.  It  was  clear  his  mother  doubted  him  at  last. 
Her  hand  dropped  from  his  sleeve.  With  that 
withdrawal  a  sense  of  desertion,  of  betrayal,  broke 
desolately  upon  him. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  181 

" Have  I  permission  to  go,  Sir? "  he  asked  coldly. 
To  Nicolas  Verring  the  request  was  but  added  de- 
fiance. 

"Aye — go, "  he  answered  in  tones  grimmer  than 
cursing. 

Nothing  could  have  seemed  further  from  his  atti- 
tude than  weeping,  but  as  Roger  passed  him  and 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  polished  stair  rail  to  ascend, 
the  man  bowed  his  head  upon  the  table  and  cried 
out  aloud  in  the  Scripture  lament  of  them  that  are 
forsaken,  a  cry  that  brought  his  son  to  his  side  with 
swift  steps — contrite,  his  heart  broken  with  the 
grief  he  had  wrought. 

"Father!" 

"Away  with  thee,  and  see 'that  the  night  bring 
repentance.  Other  men  have  sons.  I  have  but 


"  Nicolas  ! "  Alison  Verring  had  come  near  with 
her  boy.  "Nicolas,  hear  him,"  she  pleaded. 
"  He  is  sad  to  grieve  thee  so.  " 

"  I  hear  him  not  till  he  be  brought  to  a  true  re- 
pentance. "  Nicolas  Verring  lifted  upon  his  wife 
a  look  of  grey  displeasure.  "And  go  thou  not  near 
him,  but  pray  for  his  sins  for  that  he  hath  this  evil 
inheritance  from  thee. "  His  eyes  glittered  in  the 
smarting  tears  that  gave  abnormal  brilliancy  to 
their  fanatic  anger;  misery  looked  out  beneath  the 
outraged  majesty  of  the  dismissal.  "  Pray, "  he  re- 
peated harshly,  "as  I  shall  pray,  for  light  and  the 
revelation  to  make  visible  the  Hand  of  the  Lord  in 
what  is  now  accursed.  " 

Roger,  like  one  struck  in  the  face  when  his  arms 
are  tied,  stood  up  to  his  full  height,  then  turned  and 
went,  without  a  backward  glance. 


i82  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  wife  lingered. 

"Nicolas — them  wilt  not  drive  me  from  thee — 
my  husband.  What  grief  should  we  not  share  ? " 

He  was  silent. 

He  watched  her  as  she  opened  the  door  into  their 
chamber  and  watched  it  close.  Still  he  did  not 
move.  Through  the  open  shutters  the  odour  of  the 
lilacs  crept  on  the  soft  wind. 

It  roused  him  to  new  anger  and  he  stumbled  to 
the  window  and  shut  it  violently  against  the  per- 
fume of  the  offending  flower. 

To  him  the  soothing  fragrance  was  but  another  at- 
tack of  that  insidious  Will  with  which  he  had  vainly 
fought  in  this  evil  night.  The  thought  spurred 
him  to  stronger  wrestlings.  It  should  not  prevail. 
Beset  on  every  side,  believing  the  Tempter's  clutch 
to  be  coiling  like  octopus  arms  upon  his  son  and 
fastening  even  to  his  wife,  alone,  he  threw  himself 
upon  his  knees  and  strove,  single-handed,  against 
the  Power  of  Hell. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

PILGRIM   AND   PURITAN 

THE  same  perfume  came  in  the  upper  win- 
dows and  mingled  with  the  hopelessness  of 
Roger's  thoughts,  so  that  the  fragrance  of 
lilac  blooms  seemed  ever  after  to  bring  with  it  the 
sense  of  woe,  of  dull  disaster  and  regret. 

The  hour  went  wretchedly  on.  Better  to  face 
reproof,  remonstrance,  than  this  aloofness.  His 
nature,  ardent  like  his  mother's,  starved  hungrily 
in  silence,  and  groped  in  the  cheerless  dark  for  the 
threads  of  the  broken  harmony.  In  his  most  act- 
ual self  he  could  never  be  content  with  discord. 
The  love  of  battle  for  its  own  sake  was  not  in  him. 
The  impulse  that  drove  him  to  contests  which 
brought  upon  him  his  father's  condemnation  was 
but  revolt  from  cruelty,  injustice,  the  offence  of  the 
strong  against  the  weak;  these  alone  were  what 
made  agreement  hateful. 

Nicolas  Verring  could  not  see  the  difference  in  the 
motive.  To  him  a  blow  was  a  blow,  and  the  temper 
that  struck,  quarrelsome  and  malicious.  The  pride 
of  family,  the  sense  of  caste  and  station,  as  tyran- 
nous with  the  Puritan  as  his  terror  of  evil  spirits, 
made  the  fear  of  gossip,  the  chance  of  publicity 
doubly  revolting. 

Alison  Verring  was  of  those  who  had  heard  from 
the  lips  of  grandmothers  the  tale  of  the  Leyden  so- 
journ, and  of  the  cheerful  ways  of  the  Dutch  cities. 

183 


184          THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

A  mellowness  and  a  sweetness  from  those  days  had 
ripened  in  the  lives  of  the  Pilgrims.  Not  given  to 
autocratic  interference  with  others,  imbued  with  a 
more  wholesome  faith,  that  had  less  fear  of  happi- 
ness and  simpler  and  more  vital  hold  on  God,  the 
men  of  Plymouth  preserved  for  their  children  a 
higher  type  of  practice,  a  less  rigid  channel  of  belief. 

In  this  third  generation  the  truer  essence  of  their 
faith  was  tinctured  with  the  intolerance  of  their 
Puritan  neighbours,  but  in  Alison  its  truth  was  un- 
defiled  and  she  gave  her  boy  her  best  inheritance, 
heightened  and  deepened  by  the  pure  intensity  of 
her  own  nature. 

All  the  sacramental  joy  of  her  marriage,  all  the 
aspirations  of  her  patriotism,  of  her  love  for  New 
England,  all  the  ecstasies  of  her  faith,  she  had 
wrought  into  his  being  in  the  days  when  kneeling  in 
thankful  prayer  or  singing  her  magnificat  in  the 
ardours  of  her  work  she  had  waited  for  his  coming. 

A  happy  light  was  ever  round  her  as  she  moved. 
In  its  radiance,  a  radiance  shining  through  dark 
mists  of  the  Puritan  creed,  Roger  had  sunned  him- 
self. Bereft  of  her  he  would  have  been  forlorn  un- 
speakably. With  her,  an  ever-present,  encompass- 
ing comprehension,  he  had  grown  up  un warped, 
and  with  the  native  spring  and  buoyancy  of  his 
clean  youth  not  wholly  overborne. 

A  sense  of  humour  she  had  as  well,  and  often  re- 
proached herself  as  the  scalpel  of  the  boy's  tongue 
slit  the  cover  from  some  hypocritic  deed  and  laugh- 
ter rose  within  her  at  the  aptness  of  his  comment. 
If  she  smiled,  then  for  weeks  she  scourged  herself 
lest  she  had  been  his  tempter  to  further  trespassing, 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  185 

and  sat  through  the  hour  of  his  punishment  with  the 
lash  that  bit  his  tender  flesh  buried  in  the  quivering 
of  her  heart.  Sometimes  it  lasted  long,  till  the 
child  had  well-nigh  fainted  under  it,  uttering  no 
sound  but  reeling  as  he  stood. 

Afterward,  bathing  the  cruel  marks,  she  had  laid 
soft  linen  upon  them  and  oftenest  had  said  no  word 
for  fear  of  self-betrayal,  but  once,  rising  to  the  su- 
preme of  anguished  effort,  she  had  spoken — coldly 
that  the  admonition  might  have  effect. 

"Thou  wilt  remember,  Roger.  Thou  wilt  not 
grieve  us  so  again.  " 

There  had  been  no  answer  but  an  angry  sound, 
and  she  had  spoken  no  more,  knowing  well  the  fire 
of  rage  burning  in  the  boy's  soul.  That  he  could 
let  her  come  near  at  all  showed  how  wonderful  was 
the  bond  that  held  them. 

As  the  lad  grew  older  she  had  sometimes  made 
bold  to  plead  against  the  father's  misconception. 

"  'Tis  not  always  sinful  to  do  battle, "  once  she 
had  said.  "Thy  own  father  was  no  mean  fighter.  " 

"Against  a  tyrant,"  he  had  answered. 

"There  be  other  tyrants  than  kings,  "  she  had  re- 
plied swiftly,  then  fallen  silent  at  her  spinning,  her 
cheeks  hot  with  her  defence. 

But  her  husband  had  persisted,  setting  forth  his 
words,  slow  and  separate,  that  she  might  not  miss 
his  meaning.  Hers  he  had  not  fathomed,  and 
passed  over  as  fanciful  and  ill-considered. 

"  'Tis  one  thing  to  fight  and  gain  a  nation's  free- 
dom, and  another  to  brawl  in  the  common  street 
and  gain  but  an  evil  reputation, "  he  had  said  pon- 


i86  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

derously.  "Why  should  one  meddle  with  what 
concerns  him  not  ? " 

This  had  been  before  Roger  was  sent  away 
with  Master  Gillam  upon  the  Hopewell.  From  that 
time  she  had  not  failed  to  persevere  in  the  struggle 
to  make  father  and  son  understand  each  other. 
When  the  two  were  apart  or  when  no  disputed  deed 
rose  between  them  all  went  well,  and  a  mutual  con- 
fidence and  pride  asserted  itself  in  both,  but  too 
often  the  strife  was  renewed  over  the  old  ground 
and  she  could  only  suffer,  waiting  for  better 
counsel. 

As  Roger  looked  into  the  cloudy  night  its  sweet- 
ness taunted  him.  Why  was  the  Devil  in  all  the 
earth  and  air  beguiling  man  with  wiles  and  strata- 
gems— life  but  a  ceaseless  vigil  in  the  midst  of  the 
unseen,  the  perilous,  that  which  seemed  most 
heavenly  a  lure  of  hell  ? 

After  the  worst  smart  of  the  final  rebuff,  the 
knowledge  of  his  father's  struggle  disquieted  him. 
He  remembered  the  half-heard  words  of  prohibition 
and  knew  that  his  mother  would  not  come,  and 
her  grief,  solitary  like  his  own,  deepened  the  op- 
pression. 

And  she,  too,  distrusted  him.  She  was  conscious 
that  somewhere  he  had  been  false !  He  had  said 
that  he  had  -not  seen  the  Maid  before.  "  In  Lon- 
don?" she  had  asked.  It  was  that  he  had  an- 
swered— but  he  put  the  thought  away.  He  had 
meant  they  should  believe  he  had  seen  her  for  the 
first  time,  that  day.  If  he  had  refused  to  answer, 
if  he  had  assented,  how  could  they  fail  sooner  or 
later  to  connect  this  recognition  of  a  stranger  barely 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  187 

arrived  in  Boston  with  the  sea  voyage  of  his  boy- 
hood? And  that  would  be  treachery,  even  to  the 
forgetting  of  his  oath  on  the  Araby  Rose. 

For  a  space  he  could  have  hated  the  thought  of 
the  Little  Maid.  Who  was  she  to  break  his  father's 
heart  and  put  lies  in  the  mouth  of  a  man  ?  He  had 
never,  so  far  as  he  was  aware,  given  his  direct  word 
to  a  lie  before.  It  hurt  with  the  sordid  ache  of  a 
besmirching  misery. 

Yet  what  was  that  to  danger,  to  certain  danger 
for  the  life  of  the  Maid  ! 

He  felt  he  must  escape  to  action.  It  was  intol- 
erable— to  sit  here  in  the  darkened  house,  in  the 
chill  of  the  stone  walls,  and  give  himself  over  to 
fiends  that  pinched  and  tore,  to  the  thought  of  his 
father  in  the  room  below  pouring  out  a  vexed  and 
stricken  soul  in  fierce  supplication,  to  the  thought  of 
the  slow  dropping  of  his  mother's  tears  as  she  knelt 
in  remorseful  agony,  confessing  her  sin  of  too  much 
love  !  His  mother — a  scorching  ran  across  his  eyes 
— the  wisest,  dearest,  purest !  No  woman  should 
again  cost  her  this  martyrdom. 

He  threw  himself  down  by  the  window,  his  head 
buried  in  his  arms,  and  prayed  silently.  The  air 
blowing  cold  from  across  the  Pond  brought  the 
marshy  smell  of  the  banks.  Through  the  quiet  he 
could  hear  the  water  yet  trickling  above  the  dam. 
Far  beyond,  toward  the  Common,  the  chorus  of 
frogs  droned  distantly,  and  everywhere  there  went 
a  stir  through  the  Sabbath  calm,  the  stir  of  spring 
and  hope. 

The  sense  of  the  irreparable,  the  inexorable, 
lightened.  He  moved  as  if  to  rise  and  seek  his 


i88  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

father.  He  would  not  sleep  unforgiven.  But  as 
he  rose  he  heard  the  door  close  into  his  mother's 
room.  He  dared  not  follow  lest  he  offend  again. 
The  grief  of  griefs,  that  he  should  have  said  those 
words  "  I  could  kill  thee  "  was  again  upon  him,  and 
with  them  came  memory  of  the  provocation. 

Recollection  travelled  in  swift  leaps.  And  she 
did  not  like  Jacob  Munch  !  A  comforting  warmth 
broke  faintly  over  him  at  the  thought.  Poor  Little 
Maid  !  Again  he  saw  her  in  the  pictures  of  the  past, 
in  the  reality  of  the  present — as  she  had  lain  in  the 
Captain's  arms,  unconscious  from  long  suffering; 
afterward,  as  she  had  told  her  tale,  again  as  she 
had  drunk  the  "safe  home"  and  the  pledge  of  the 
Rose.  And  now  she  was  here — here  in  Boston,  the 
dark  eyes  no  longer  mournful,  the  beautiful  frank 
way,  the  vivid  charm,  but  franker,  more  potent. 

In  his  restlessness  he  fought  again  the  battle  by 
the  wharfside  with  the  sailors.  But  were  they 
sailors?  The  man  who  had  first  fled  and  then  re- 
turned— he  was  no  sailor.  Sailors  went  not  cloaked 
and  armed  with  swords.  Nor  had  he  been  so 
drunken  as  his  fellow.  Then  why  the  attack? 
And  in  concert  with  so  low  a  ruffian?  The  Maid 
had  worn  no  jewels.  Could  her  cousin,  could  Greg- 
ory Bellingham — but  that  were  preposterous  to 
imagine ! 

Why  had  he  not  told  her  he  was  Roger  Verring  ? 
And  the  fiddle — on  the  Sabbath  eve !  All  that 
was  beautiful,  ungodly,  that  was  her  world  !  Vague 
trouble  of  the  knowledge  fell  upon  him  almost  sleep- 
ing. 

The  trouble  lingered  in  his  slumbers  and  carried 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  189 

him  through  doleful  strivings  to  desolate  ends, 
through  long  pursuits,  where  the  Maid  ever  evaded 
his  coming,  till  he  found  his  father  perishing  beyond 
his  reach,  or  his  mother  lying  dead  beside  his  path, 
the  look  of  reproachful  grief  set  forever  on  her 
moveless  lips. 

Then  the  long  misery  changed.  His  mother 
went  with  him  in  the  quest  and  gave  him  comfort 
without  words.  With  her  presence  peace  fell  upon 
his  sleep,  and  only  the  robins  loud  in  their  delight 
brought  him  from  its  easeful  deeps. 

The  Sabbath  morning  was  cheerily  aflame.  Yet 
Roger's  eyes  in  their  first  awakening  rested  not  on 
the  fair  colouring  without,  nor  on  the  spotlessness 
within,  but  on  the  dull  hues  of  the  Indian  shawl 
with  which  his  mother's  hands  had  covered  him 
while  he  slept. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  GOVERNOR'S  DINNER 
"A  health  to  the  native  born." 

ROGER  bowed  deeply,  the  more  profoundly 
for  the  suddenness  of  the  surprise.  The 
blood  that  had  risen  to  his  face  receded, 
leaving  him  the  handsomer  for  the  pallor. 

The  invitation  to  the  Governor's  dinner,  bearing 
at  the  top  the  knightly  seal  in  careful  graving,  had 
failed  to  ease  the  tightening  struggle  of  the  ten  days 
since  the  arrival  of  Sir  William,  a  struggle  that  had 
contracted  to  one  desire,  the  longing  to  see  the  Little 
Maid. 

The  invitation  had  said  nothing  of  his  fellow- 
guests,  and  the  factions  that  ranged  themselves 
for  and  against  the  Charter  were  too  marked  to 
make  social  fusion  probable.  The  Little  Maid, 
he  had  argued,  would  be  invited  only  with  the  other 
following.  He  should  spend  the  evening  with  the 
Lieutenant-Governor  Stoughton  and  the  disaffected 
and  anxious  who  dwelt  unhopefully  on  the  meaning 
of  a  royal  governorship. 

The  reasoning  was  good;  but  hope  yields  not  to 
reason,  and  as  the  great  door  of  Sir  William's  man- 
sion had  shut  him  from  the  cool  raindrops  and  the 
dripping  trees  and  the  long  reaches  of  garden  and 
orchard  lying  drenched  under  the  heavy  skies,  it 
had  beat  strong  within  him.  When  he  had  entered 
the  square  parlours  he  had  looked  from  one  room  to 

190 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  191 

the  other  in  rapid  search  before  he  had  bent  to  Lady 
Phips  with  the  ease,  distinguished  and  unconscious, 
already  marked  and  condemned  by  those  to  whom 
it  savoured  of  the  "levity  "  of  courts. 

At  the  same  instant  he  had  seen  her,  near  them 
both  but  turned  a  little  aside  to  hear  a  question, 
vivid  even  in  the  silent  waiting  of  her  arrested  look, 
the  very  soul  of  the  complex  life  that  filled  the 
scene. 

In  Lady  Phips  a  certain  air  of  affectionate  pos- 
session, a  certain  pride,  showed  delicately  as  she 
greeted  him.  Here  was  a  provincial  born  and  bred 
who  would  shame  no  hostess  with  an  awkward 
speech,  a  graceless  forgetfulness.  It  was  at  her  for- 
mal words  which  made  Captain  Verring  known  to 
Mistress  Armitage  that  the  blood  had  flown  back 
suddenly  upon  Roger's  heart  and  left  him  pale. 
The  moment  seemed  but  the  answer  of  a  demand 
grown  too  peremptory  for  denial,  a  response  in- 
evitable, yet  amazing  as  the  expected  miracle  of 
summer. 

The  surrounding  groups,  conversing  in  stately 
phrases,  stiff  and  seemly/  or  chattering  in  tones 
keyed  to  the  note  of  the  festivity,  moved  away. 
The  three  were  left,  for  a  little,  quite  alone  with  the 
Governor,  who  had  returned  to  his  wife  after  a 
genial  excursion  among  his  friends.  Splendid  in 
gold  embroidery  and  Mechlin,  he  was  as  sturdy  and 
commanding  as  in  the  plainer  days  of  the  Rose. 

"How  now — Mary !  He  knows  my  Little  Maid 
already.  Bother  not  with  presentations.  " 

Lady  Phips  looked  from  Roger  to  the  girl  and 
then  at  her  husband,  amiably  chiding. 


192  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"Sir  William  forgets  that  Mistress  Armitage  is 
newly  come  from  a  world  of  greater  ceremony  than 
ours ! " 

"Nay,  Lady  Phips,  but  I  find  it  quite  the  other 
way!"  Mistress  Armitage  replied.  "  Tis  Boston 
is  the  land  of  ceremony.  I  fear  to  transgress  its 
decorum  each  time  I  go  abroad. " 

"Thou  but  mockest  us,  child. "  My  lady  shook 
her  head  reproachfully,  the  look  of  pleasure  in  her 
face  deepening  to  a  smile  at  the  girl's  expression  of 
humorous  protest. 

"  'Tis  the  untutored  truth.  I  shall  not  sleep  o ' 
nights  till  I  be  better  instructed. "  She  turned  to 
the  elder  woman  with  whimsical  pleading.  "I 
pray  you  take  some  leisure  hour  to  give  me  lessons,  " 
she  begged ;  then  her  manner  dropped  all  at  once  to 
the  plane  of  sober  restraint.  "Captain  Verring 
will  tell  you  that  I  need  them  greatly, "  she  added 
with  graver  emphasis.  "It  was  he  rescued  me 
from  my  worst  indiscretion.  " 

Her  eyes  rested  on  his,  a  bravely  mastered  trou- 
ble in  their  look.  If  her  colour  had  unaccountably 
heightened  as  Roger  bowed,  none  but  Lady  Phips 
had  seen  it,  and  the  brief  embarrassment  had  passed 
into  relief  as  the  Governor's  welcome  pressed  down, 
to  running  over,  the  measure  of  his  wife's.  Who- 
ever her  champion  might  be,  it  was  sure  Sir  William 
trusted  him. 

Roger's  eyes  had  lighted  to  disclaim  the  gravity 
in  her  own. 

"  It  is  scarce  to  be  counted  an  indiscretion  to  lose 
one's  way  in  Shawmut  lanes,  "  he  answered  quickly. 
'  'Tis  a  tribute  demanded  of  every  stranger.  " 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  193 

The  trouble  went  out  of  her  look  as  he  spoke. 

"Oh,  if  'tis  then  part  of  the  code "  The 

seriousness  was  dispersed  in  laughter. 

Sir  William  had  gazed  with  delighted  interest 
from  one  to  the  other. 

" 'Twas  thou,  my  lad!  I  might  have  known 
'twas  thou.  'Tis  his  good  fate  to  attend  thee  in 
misfortune,  eh  Frances?"  He  had  come  closer  to 
the  Little  Maid,  an  unwonted  gentleness  softening 
his  bluff  tones. 

"Sh — Not  Frances."  Lady  Phips  touched  his 
sleeve  warningly.  A  passing  wonder  had  crossed 
the  girl's  face  at  his  use  of  the  name, and  she  glanced 
involuntarily  at  Roger. 

"Tut-tut !  None  heard,  and  our  Captain  is  dis- 
creet. Moreover  he  may  not  use  it  if  he  would — 
poor  lad!"  The  Governor  laughed  again,  slyly, 
clapping  the  young  man  upon  the  shoulder.  "We 
are  more  to  be  depended  on  than  my  Little  Maid 
herself,  for  she  told  her  own  tale  to  thee,  Mary  !  I 
had  not  dreamed  so  great  a  rashness !" 

Clearly  Sir  William  did  not  know  that  the  Maid 
had  failed  to  recognize  in  Captain  Verring  the  boy 
of  the  Araby  Rose.  Roger  saw  that  she  was  mysti- 
fied by  the  Governor's  allusion,  and  saw,  too,  at  the 
same  time,  that  among  those  who  watched  her 
without  seeming  to  interrupt  their  own  discourse 
was  one  he  had  not  before  perceived.  The  dis- 
covery brought  him  the  pang  of  instant  anger.  His 
hostess  had  followed  his  look. 

"Thou  knowest  Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass?"  she 
asked. 

"I   have   seen   him — often  in   the   last  week," 


i94  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

Roger  answered,  his  eyes  coming  back  to  the  Gov- 
ernor's wife  and  dwelling  briefly  on  the  girl's  face 
as  they  came.  "  I  do  not  know  him.  What  is  his 
mission  in  Boston?" 

"None  can  tell,  but  there  is  great  conjecture," 
began  Lady  Phips.  The  Governor  had  gone  apart 
with  a  long-visaged  one  who  was  plying  him  with 
a  catechism  of  censorious  import.  His  wife  lowered 
her  voice  without  changing  her  expression  of  cheer- 
ful hospitality.  "It  is  like  he  comes  to  watch  the 
conduct  of  affairs  and  give  secret  advices  to  the 
King, "  she  finished. 

"But  that  would  be  spying!"  The  girl  spoke 
quickly,  with  a  look  Roger  misunderstood.  He 
thought  she  would  defend  the  man.  The  thought 
added  to  an  antagonism  already  recalled  by  the 
sight  of  the  cavalier.  Sir  Humphrey  had  fixed  his 
eyes  upon  them  more  openly,  regarding  in  turn  each 
speaker.  The  approach  of  a  new  bevy  of  guests 
changed  their  positions  and  Roger  moved,  as  if  in- 
advertently, to  intercept  the  stranger's  view  of 
the  Maid.  Sir  Humphrey  moved  at  the  same  time 
and  with  the  same  seeming  inadvertence. 

"Have  you  known  him  long?" 

The  girl  answered  Roger's  question  with  the  di- 
rectness he  remembered.  "No,"  she  said.  "I 
saw  him  for  the  first  time  on  that  evening  when  I 
was  lost.  It  was  he  who  played  the  violin,"  and 
either  at  the  intentness  of  Roger's  look  or  at  some 
recollection  he  did  not  share,  her  colour  deepened. 

"Thou  wilt  not  repeat  the  idle  suspicion " 

Their  hostess  had  disposed  of  the  newcomers  and 
turned  back  to  them. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  195 

"Nay,  Lady  Phips,  I  can  be  discreet  as  another ! 
And  did  I  not  beg  instructions  ?  You  will  find  me 
as  obedient — as  Captain  Verring  finds  his  men  ! " 

"I  fear  Mistress  Armitage  is  more  used  to  com- 
mand than  to  obey. "  The  yellow  warmth  of  the 
candles  added  youth  to  Sir  Humphrey's  graces. 
He  took  quiet  possession  of  the  Maid.  There  was 
about  him  the  powerful  attraction  of  a  strong  will 
clothed  upon  with  soft  indifference.  "Madam 
Chanterell  is  waiting,  "  he  said  with  light  assurance. 

"I  like  not  Madam  Chanterell — overmuch," 
whispered  Lady  Phips.  "She  troubleth  too  little 
to  cover  her  dislikes,  and  her  brother  neither  came 
nor  sent  excuse,  though  both  were  bidden  for  the 
sake  of  the  Maid.  'Twould  seem  the  girl's  affection 
for  Sir  William  doth  much  mislike  them.  " 

Roger  felt  the  thrill,  half  breathless,  that  followed 
the  girl  as  she  passed  among  the  watching  groups. 
A  splendour  went  with  her.  But  behind  the  glow  of 
her  beauty  shone  a  brightness  more  compelling  yet, 
the  brightness  of  a  high  and  fearless  spirit,  a  spirit 
that  exacted  no  tribute  save  truth,  and  gave  itself 
no  thought  for  the  tempting  of  a  petty  homage. 

Often  during  dinner  Mistress  Armitage  lifted  her 
eyes  to  search  Roger's  face  in  a  puzzled  fashion. 
The  two  were  not  side  by  side  but  his  answering 
look  met  her  own  with  an  ever-recurring  wonder. 
In  spite  of  the  Governor's  allusion  she  did  not  know 
him  ! 

Madam  Chanterell  saw  the  glances,  fleeting  as 
they  were,  and  was  disturbed.  Who  would  have 
thought  to  find  so  personable  a  young  man  among 
these  raw  colonials?  The  very  soberness  of  his 


196  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

attire  seemed  a  heightener  of  his  attraction.  It 
added  a  gravity  to  his  youth,  that  was  full  of  dan- 
gerous allurement  to  a  maid  surfeited  with  the 
flippancies,  the  facile  hypocrisies,  of  a  different 
world.  And  Madam  Chanterell,  now  that  she  had 
come  protesting  into  this  Puritan  province,  meant 
to  keep  her  charge  as  secluded  as  possible  from  its 
contamination.  Even  Sir  William,  governor 
though  he  might  be  and  rightfully  the  recipient  of 
the  girl's  gratitude,  was  but  doubtfully  acceptable. 
There  was  no  indefiniteness,  no  indirection,  in  her 
intentions  for  the  daughter  of  Francis  Bellingham. 
She  knew  well  the  kind  of  man,  she  even  thought 
she  knew  the  man,  who  would  be  most  suitable, 
most  satisfactory.  Anger  and  uneasiness  grew 
within  her  as  the  dinner  went  on,  for  her  own  eyes 
persisted  in  dwelling  with  unreasoning  pleasure 
upon  the  face  she  would  gladly  have  banished  from 
the  Governor's  board. 

Roger  was  aware  of  her  scrutiny,  openly  disap- 
proving, and  with  an  insight  at  once  unconscious 
and  assured,  he  realized  what  her  hostility  meant. 

The  pleasant  sounds  of  dining  floated  out  to 
mingle  with  the  good-night  twittering  of  the  birds. 
The  steady  murmur  of  contented  voices  had  gained 
in  volume.  The  tones  of  the  men  were  less  heavy, 
the  utterance  of  the  women  less  primly  subdued,  as 
the  progress  of  the  feast  wore  off  the  awkward  ne- 
cessity of  adjustment.  Everyone  had  begun  to 
feel  at  home  in  his  own  place  and  at  ease  with  his 
neighbor. 

The  mouth  of  Lieutenant-Governor  Stoughton 
had  lost  somewhat  of  its  primness  and  the  meagre 


197 


hardness  of  his  expression  had  warmed  to  some- 
thing like  a  faint  reflection  of  the  cheer  about  him. 
While  inwardly  he  noticed  with  reprobation  every 
detail  of  the  event  from  the  laces  of  my  Lady  to  the 
buttons  of  the  serving  man,  he  maintained  an  equa- 
ble aloofness  and  ate  with  an  appearance  of  severe 
discrimination.  Now  and  then  he  flung  an  obsti- 
nate negation  upon  an  opinion  of  Mr.  Saltonstall 
who  left  the  disputed  subject  smoothly  and  swung 
the  conversation  into  more  peaceful  channels  with 
an  adroitness  Sir  William  envied. 

Roger,  a  young  relative  of  Lady  Phips  on  either 
hand,  talked  and  jested,  smiled  and  played  the  gal- 
lant, as  was  expected  of  him.  When  his  spirit 
flagged  in  the  task,  he  pricked  himself  to  more  earn- 
est endeavor.  But  always  as  he  raised  his  eyes,  he 
let  them  wander  for  a  little  about  the  long  table. 
They  rested  but  an  instant  on  any  face  and  kept 
but  one  image  after  their  brief  journey.  Yet  that 
glimpse  laid  each  time  a  hand  upon  his  pulse  so  that 
,,it  halted  for  the  sweetness  of  the  touch,  then  leaped 
to  meet  it  in  a  hurrying  stream. 

Once  he  answered  a  question  in  a  tone  dropped 
a  little  from  its  natural  key — and  a  little  blurred. 
His  companion  had  looked  up,  caught  the  trans- 
figuring light  in  his  gaze  and  fluttered  under  it, 
aware  of  forces  in  the  air  she  had  not  consciously 
evoked. 

If  only  he  could  have  heard  what  the  Maid  was 
saying  !  He  could  see  the  attention,  absorbed  and 
smiling,  that  waited  on  her  words,  the  changing  ex- 
pression of  faces  responding  with  unwonted  anima- 
tion to  her  mirth  or  earnest.  Sir  Humphrey's  face 


198  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

was  among  those  nearest  her.  Something  about 
the  man  harassed  and  importuned  him  with  vague 
remembrance.  Something  it  was  that  recalled 
not  the  lighted  room  and  the  violin,  but  things  long 
past,  distinct  from  the  jealousy  of  the  present. 
Was  it  the  voice?  He  thought  so  once.  Mr.  In- 
crease Mather  had  made  a  stricture  on  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  Londoner  and  Sir  Humphrey's  tone 
raised  in  sharp  repartee  had  held  an  irritated  tang. 
But  the  impression  was  latent  and  elusive. 

Sir  Humphrey  himself  seemed  engrossed,  to 
every  sense  of  others'  observation,  in  worship  of 
Mistress  Armitage.  Into  his  admiration  he  threw 
a  force,  a  concentration,  that  struck  upon  Roger's 
mood  like  a  blow  sharp-edged  and  painful. 

"Is  not  Mistress  Armitage  beautiful?"  He  had 
caught  her  name  on  every  hand ;  now  it  came  from 
Faith  Apthorpe,  his  companion's  sister,  who  de- 
serted her  roast  oysters  and  the  assiduous  youth 
beyond  to  put  the  question  to  Roger.  "  I  cannot 
keep  my  eyes  from  her, "  she  went  on  confidingly. 
"Yet  'tis  not  her  beauty  neither.  'Tis  as  if — 
'tis  a  charm.  I  feel  I  must  know  her,  though  I've 
never  spoken  to  her  in  my  life.  Every  time  she 
looks  at  one  of  those  people  up  there  I  say,  'O,  look 
at  me,  look  at  me  instead  !' " 

Roger  glanced  down  upon  the  pretty  features  to 
see  if  they  betrayed  a  curious  skill  in  irony,  but  it 
was  earnest,  and  the  eyes  were  fastened,  not  on  him 
but  upon  the  object  of  their  manifest  devotion. 
Temple  Armitage  saw  the  gaze,  and  as  the  girl 
smiled  and  nodded,  she  answered  the  smile  with  one 
as  friendly,  full  of  a  glamour  and  warmth  of  interest 
no  other  admiration  had  drawn  from  her. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  199 

"There!"  announced  Faith  triumphantly. 
"  Beulah  Munch  said  she  was  too  proud  and  stiff  to 
make  friends  but — la  la — I  knew  'twas  not  so. 
Didst  see  her,  Mercy  ?  She  smiled  at  me  as  we  had 
been  friends  this  twelvemonth. " 

Mercy,  whose  own  gaze  had  been  fixed  upon  the 
stranger's,  turned  back  to  her  sister  and  to  Roger. 
She  was  moved  still  by  the  flash  of  Roger's  look, 
and  her  sister's  words  annoyed  her. 

"Thou  chatterest  like  a  magpie,  Faith!  Why 
shouldst  thou  care  if  Mistress  Armitage  be  proud  or 
meek?" 

But  Roger  laughed  in  the  eyes  of  the  enthusiast 
and  answered  for  her  lightly. 

"Nay,  Mistress  Apthorpe,  it  speaks  a  lovely 
nature  that  your  sister  should  dwell  so  ardently 
upon  another's  charms  and  forget  her  own  !" 

His  voice  was  level  and  without  the  catch  that 
again  came  upon  his  breathing  at  the  name.  The 
warder  that  waits  grim  and  Cerberus-like  before  the 
gate  of  betrayal  in  every  New  Englander  had  closed 
it  fast  and  barred  it  staunchly  against  all  possible 
invasion  of  discovery. 

Mercy  laughed  with  him  indulgently  and  they  fell 
to  discourse  somewhat  gravely  as  the  buoyant  Faith 
exchanged  a  little  war  of  sentimental  banter  with  a 
fatherly  member  of  the  Council,  who  made  jocose 
inquiries  about  an  absent  swain. 

Roger  had  the  reputation  of  being  devoid  of  the 
humour  that  seasoned  the  more  lifeless  intercourse 
of  Puritan  circles.  Its  horse  play,  its  bald  allu- 
sions, its  eternal  repetitions,  had  but  a  stale  flavour 
for  him.  His  own  irony  was  keener,  his  humour 


200  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

subtler  and  more  dramatic.  More  than  once  he 
had  paid  the  price  of  a  dry  characterization,  an 
iconoclasm  of  portrayal  too  successful  to  be  allowed 
to  pass  unnoticed. 

If  the  Little  Maid  observed  the.  two  whose  talk 
seemed  so  gravely  intimate  she  showed  it  by  no 
glance  in  their  direction  and  the  puzzled  look  did 
not  rest  again,  even  fleetingly,  on  Roger's  face. 

Madam  Chanterell  relaxed  her  vigilance.  Madam 
Verring  grew  more  content,  Surely  there  were 
plenty  of  young  people  of  his  own  kind  for  her  son  to 
seek.  Why  should  she  fear  he  would  waste  him- 
self on  this  ward  of  a  disagreeable  stranger — Roger, 
with  his  sensitive  pride !  Who  was  this  Madam 
with  her  rudely  obvious  hatred  of  her  new  home? 
True,  the  girl  bore  little  resemblance  to  her  guar- 
dian; and  her  manner — no  doubt  it  was  modest 
enough  now,  but  without  a  timidity  befitting  a 
maid  who  might  listen  to  such  discourse  as  the 
Lieutenant-Governor's.  Sir  William  had  friends 
of  too  many  sorts — and  there  was  too  much  pro- 
fusion in  the  gold  broideries  of  his  doublet ! 

Earlier  she  had  conceived  a  distaste  for  the  in- 
genuous outspokenness  of  Faith  and  Mercy  Ap- 
thorpe,  detecting  in  it  the  blither  freedom  of  their 
New  York  upbringing,  but  now  she  held  to  the 
thought  of  them  with  comfort. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see,  Roger  Verring,  that  thou  hast 
not  yet  fallen  into  the  evil  ways  of  thy  elders  and 
set  a  pyramid  of  false  hair  upon  thy  head.  "  The 
voice  was  rotund  and  sonorous,  and  the  table 
looked  up. 

Roger  felt  himself  grow  hot  as  the  eyes  of  Sir 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  201 

Humphrey  impaled  him  with  sudden  amusement. 
He  saw  the  cavalier  cast  a  look  full  of  mirth  at  Mad- 
am Chanterell — though  his  own  gaze  rested  directly 
on  the  plump  figure  of  Judge  Sewall,  whose  full 
face  laughed  above  his  double  chin  as  he  wagged  his 
great  head  reproachfully  at  the  Governor. 

"I  fear  'tis  rather  the  desire  to  please  my  father 
than  any  inner  conviction  that  deprives  me  of  a 
wig,  "  Roger  answered,  smiling  in  a  swift  glance  up 
and  down  the  board  where  the  wigless  were  almost 
as  numerous  as  the  bewigged. 

"Thou  hast  a  sensible  father.  It  doth  greatly 
irk  me  that  I  cannot  persuade  more  men  to  be  of  the 
same  mind  and  cease  the  decking  out  of  their  per- 
sons with  dead  men's  hair. "  The  Judge  returned 
to  his  pasty  and  ate  with  relish  despite  the  inef- 
fectualness  of  his  ministrations  in  the  matter  of 
wigs. 

"  'Tis  all  very  well  for  Roger!  An'  I  had  his 
hair  I'd  not  cover  it,  but  'tis  my  belief  our  Jus- 
tice would  better  adorn  the  bench  in  dead  men's 
hair  than  in  no  hair  at  all ! "  and  the  member  of  the 
Council  shook  his  powdered  periwig  with  sober  con- 
viction. 

Judge  Sewall  again  deserted  his  trencher,  knife 
and  fork  suspended,  to  join  in  the  merriment,  put- 
ting up  a  deprecatory  hand  to  the  scanty  fringe 
about  his  smooth  face. 

The  talk  fell  close  again,  the  group  of  elders  around 
the  Governor  sinking  their  tones  to  a  mysterious- 
ness  almost  painful,  a  mysteriousness  that  spread 
to  include  the  discourse  of  the  younger  people 
near  Mistress  Armitage. 


202  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"And  may  it  not  be,  Sir,  that  the  accusers  be 
sometimes  themselves  false  or  mistaken?"  The 
voice  for  which  Roger  was  listening  reached  him 
with  gentle  distinctness. 

The  words  were  addressed  to  Mr.  Saltonstall  but 
the  answer  came  with  prompt  severity  from  Mr. 
Cotton  Mather. 

"  'Tis  a  matter,  Mistress,  where  maids  and  women 
would  best  have  no  opinion.  " 

"Nay,  Sir,  but  are  there  not  maids  among  the 
accusers?  How  should  we  not  think  of  it  when 
women  are  hanged  for  it  ? "  The  girl  spoke  dcpre- 
catingly,  with  modest  questioning,  but  there  was 
earnest  in  the  quiet  of  her  tones. 

"You  touch  on  that  concerneth  those  whose  age 
and  sex  enableth  them  to  judge,"  was  the  stern 
reply. 

"Yea,  Mistress,"  echoed  Sir  Humphrey,  "listen 
to  us  graybeards  an*  you  would  be  enlightened. 
'Tis  a  grave  matter  for  the  young.  " 

Mr.  Increase  Mather  fixed  a  suspicious  gaze  upon 
the  stranger.  His  son  Cotton's  twenty-nine  years 
gave  to  him  a  look  scarcely  older  than  the  simulated 
youth  of  Sir  Humphrey.  The  girl  regarded  the 
Puritan  ministers  seriously.  Her  eyes  had  again 
the  mournful  intentness  Roger  so  well  remembered. 
Mr.  Cotton  Mather  was  going  on,  his  face  warming 
with  excitement. 

"To  doubt  the  afflicted,  to  speak  tenderly  of  the 
malignants — 'tis  a  dangerous  course.  "  His  words 
vibrated  with  angry  warning. 

"Aye,  Mistress,"  put  in  Sir  Humphrey  Wild- 
glass  again,  "  'tis  ever  dangerous  to  question.  " 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  203 

Increase  Mather  frowned  a  little,  but  the  look 
with  which  Sir  Humphrey  encountered  his  cold 
scrutiny  allayed  his  suspicion. 

"Even  as  this  comfit  is  crushed  in  the  teeth," 
the  son  continued,  "and  is  torn  and  vanisheth,  even 
so  shall  the  malignants  perish  by  the  hand  of  the 
Lord. " 

"The  teeth  would  seem  to  find  rare  enjoyment 
in  the  crushing, "  Sir  Humphrey  remarked  below 
his  breath. 

"They  shall  be  devoured,  and  in  their  place  new 

strength  shall  be  in  Zion.  Beware,  Mistress " 

He  fixed  his  eyes  balefully  on  Temple,  leaning  a 
little  forward  in  his  place — "  Beware  lest  bewailing 
the  emissaries  of  the  Devil  you  yourself  fall  into  the 
snare ! " 

"  Even  so,  Mistress, "  struck  in  the  cavalier  once 
more  with  unmoved  solemnity.  "Beware — to 
have  wits  is  to  give  black  inducement  to  the  Devil.  " 

The  interruption  was  again  ignored  and  the  voice 
went  on  in  shriller  denunciation. 

' '  He  that  withholdeth  from  the  conflict — cursed 
shall  he  be.  " 

The  silence  that  followed  was  full  of  shrinking 
terror,  fear  of  the  supernatural  weighting  the  air. 
Then  talk  broke  out  again  more  feverishly,  each 
speaker  recounting  some  new  tale  of  the  manifes- 
tations in  hag-ridden  Salem,  till  faces  grew  clouded 
and  distrustful  like  the  faces  of  those  who  strain 
their  sight  within  a  fog. 

The  girl's  look  was  still  fixed  upon  the  hectic 
cheeks,  the  prominent  eyes,  the  full  and  tremulous 
lips  of  Mr.  Cotton  Mather. 


2o4  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"You  mistake  Mistress  Armitage,  Sir,"  put  in 
Nathaniel  Saltonstall.  "She  bewaileth  not  the 
minions  of  Satan;  she  but  asked  for  guidance  in 
knowing  them.  'Tis  sure  were  the  Arch  Fiend 
to  appear  in  the  guise  of  an  accuser  he  could  do 
monstrous  evil  among  the  good. " 

Lady  Phips  had  risen.  Mr.  Mather's  answer 
was  somewhat  lost  in  a  setting  back  of  chairs  and 
a  silken  rustle  of  departure.  But  his  expression 
was  amply  eloquent.  He  was  not  wont  to  be  an- 
swered or  even  appealed  to  save  as  Oracle.  That 
an  unfrocked  layman,  that  a  woman,  worst  of  all, 
that  a  maid,  should  question  him  as  an  equal  with 
no  more  deference  than  is  paid  to  age  and  station, 
shocked  alike  the  importance  of  the  man  and  the 
convictions  of  the  priest. 

"No  more  of  witches!"  commanded  the  Gov- 
ernor. "Here  Johonnot,  fill  the  glasses.  'Tis 
Burgundy,  my  good  sirs,  as  old  as  Mother  Carey. 
Think  on  more  cheerful  themes. " 

Conversation  brightened  with  the  stir,  grew 
business  like  and  fell  upon  the  currency,  then,  at 
some  comment  of  Sir  Humphrey's,  upon  the  In- 
dians. 

"New  England's  not  safe  till  Canada  be  ours." 
The  Governor  brought  down  his  hand  heavily  so 
that  the  tankards  jumped,  and  one  spilled  its  red- 
ness along  the  damask. 

"Put  salt  on  it,  William,"  advised  Judge  Sewall 
placidly.  "Thou  hast  been  so  long  from  home 
thou  art  not  well  trained  in  domestic  deeds.  " 

The  Governor  spilled  the  great  salt  cellar  bodily 
upon  the  offending  blot. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  205 

"  So  long  as  the  red  men  have  the  French  behind 
them  we're  like  to  have  our  fill  of  horrors,  "  he  went 
on.  "  Had  we  but  money " 

"Aye,  Sir  William,  'tis  money  makes  great 

deeds "  The  voice  of  Sir  Humphrey  again — 

"  'Tis  perhaps  at  Quebec  we  might  find  the  gold. 
What  saith  the  valiant  Captain?" 

"That  we'll  capture  Quebec,  with  Sir  Humphrey 
Wildglass  to  show  us  the  gold  when  'tis  done ! 
'T would  not  be  the  first  time  I'd  seen  Sir  William 
capture  a  treasure  from  the  enemy!"  Roger 
answered  promptly,  his  look  turning  from  the 
cavalier  to  the  Governor  as  he  spoke.  There  was 
nothing  in  the  glance  to  reveal  any  hidden  meaning, 
but  the  silent  flash  of  the  Governor's  blue  eyes  as 
they  met  his  own  had  a  swift  significance.  Sir 
Humphrey,  whose  wandering  gaze  had  returned 
sharply  to  the  speaker  at  the  retort  concerning  the 
Frenchman's  gold,  did  not  miss  the  look. 

His  voice,  quiet,  conversational,  affable,  had 
worked  in  Roger  the  quick  repulsion  it  had  effected 
at  every  pause  of  the  evening  when  its  cadences  had 
reached  him.  Yet  it  was  the  voice  of  a  gentleman, 
well-bred,  interested  to  the  point  of  flattery,  in- 
different to  the  point  where  its  words  could  have 
no  hint  of  personal  feeling. 

His  elbow  was  leaned  upon  the  table,  his  silver 
cup  held  suspended  between  thumb  and  forefinger 
as  he  listened.  Now  he  sipped  at  the  wine  with 
pleasant  absorption  in  its  flavor  while  a  soft  sound 
of  unspoken  applause  rose  upon  Roger's  words. 

"Such  redoubtable  hunters  of  treasure  would 
be  their  own  best  guides  in  Quebec, "  he  answered) 


206  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

setting  down  the  glass.  "Truly,  Sir  William,  'tis 
a  brave  supporter  you  have !  'Tis  pity  you'd  not 
more  such  in  '88  !  Who  knows " 

"  It  is  not  in  the  power  of  man  to  foresee  tempests 
and  to  prophesy  the  failure  of  allies, "  broke  in  the 
member  of  the  Council. 

"Still,  disaster  is  disaster,"  maintained  Sir 
Humphrey.  "  To  reach  Quebec  we  need  more  than 
wampum  or  paper  pledges,  and  'tis  not  easy  be- 
guiling money  a  second  time  from  the  pockets  of 
kings. " 

"Nay,  and  that's  a  truth,  Sir  Wildglass !  No 
spendthrift  had  ever  tighter  fist  upon  his  purse 
when  good  deeds  are  in  question  than  your  King ! " 
The  long-visaged  one  who  had  earlier  set  upon  the 
Governor  with  harsh  questioning  thrust  himself 
aggressively  into  the  conversation.  "The  folly 
of  kings  is  beyond  all  understanding  of  them  that 
are  wise.  And  the  folly  of  a  King's  advisers  is  even 

less  to  be  unriddled.  I "  He  paused,  as  if 

brought  to  a  stop  by  a  sudden  intruding  thought, 
and  relapsed  into  taciturnity. 

A  flicker  of  pleasure  crossed  the  polished  surface 
of  Sir  Humphrey's  attention.  Roger,  acutely 
aware  of  the  man  as  of  a  crouching  shadow  in  the 
forest,  was  relieved  at  his  neighbour's  abrupt  re- 
tirement from  the  dangerous  ground  of  kings' 
follies. 

"It  is  not  in  reason, "  submitted  Mr.  Increase 
Mather,  "that  the  King  should  furnish  gold  save 
as  he  is  assured — under  Providence — of  the  suc- 
cess of  the  expedition. " 

"The  guarantee  would  be  in  the  good  wisdom  of 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  207 

its  conduct, "  put  in  the  Lieutenant-Governor 
drily. 

"Or  in  greater  peace  at  home  perchance?"  sug- 
gested Sir  Humphrey.  To  Roger  there  ran  be- 
neath the  indifference  of  the  tone  a  note  more  arid, 
more  intent.  Again  the  voice  woke  a  vibration 
deep  in  the  submerged  past. 

Sir  William  had  reddened  at  Mr.  Stoughton's 
unmannerly  taunt. 

"It  is  my  belief,"  said  Nicolas  Verring  slowly, 
"that  these  expeditions  against  scattered  handfuls 
are  well-nigh  waste  till  we  can  show  we  are  su- 
perior to  the  French  in  Canada. " 

Gratification  beamed  from  the  Governor's 
angered  countenance. 

"Hear!"  he  cried.  '  'Tis  as  Mr.  Verring  says. 
Canada  first — and  all  the  Northern  tribes  will  sub- 
mit. " 

"But  can  we  leave  the  settlers  deeper  in  the  wil- 
derness to  suffer  while  we  wage  war  with  France?" 
The  question  gave  chance  for  discussion,  and  Sir 
Humphrey  waited  the  Governor's  answer,  his  face 
showing  a  sympathy  and  perplexity  hard  to  dis- 
trust. 

The  Governor  evaded  him  lightly,  seeking  to 
change  by  a  jest  a  topic  that  led  straight  into  the 
dissensions  this  very  occasion  had  been  meant  to 
soften.  He  at  least  had  marked  the  blundering — 
or  ingenuity — by  which  a  stranger,  otherwise  so 
tactful,  had  introduced  themes  most  likely  to  set 
men  by  the  ears. 

"  'Tis  not  always  possible  a  man  should  conform 
practice  to  theory. "  Mr.  Stoughton,  consistent  in 


2o8  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

his  obstinate  hostility,  refused  the  opening,  and  his 
precise  utterance  reached  the  ears  of  Sir  Humphrey 
Wildglass  with  definite  instruction  in  the  matter 
whereon  the  questioner  had  wished  to  be  informed. 
"The  Governor  projects  an  expedition  to  fortify 
some  point  of  Pemaquid.  " 

"The  affair  would  seem  of  sufficient  importance 
to  England  that  she  send  one  of  her  own  generals 
to  effect  the  reduction  of  Canada, "  Sir  Humphrey 
went  on  as  if  scarce  remarking  the  Lieutenant- 
Governor's  reply.  "  'Twould  let  the  French  per- 
ceive they  had  to  deal  with  more  than  the  anger  of 
a  province. " 

If  there  was  one  expression  more  than  another 
to  fall  like  scalding  lead  upon  the  lately  disap- 
pointed colonists  it  was  the  word  province. 

"The  colony  wants  no  better  commander  and  no 
braver  than  Sir  William  Phips, "  answered  stoutly 
the  member  of  the  Council. 

"A  toast  for  the  Governor,  our  Commander — 
the  bravest  and  the  best!"  Roger  had  risen  im- 
pulsively, a  compelling  resonance  in  his  words,  his 
head  high,  leadership  already  strong  in  the  virile 
magnetism  of  his  look. 

"Hear!     Hear!     Fill  to  the  Governor!" 

The  contagion  of  a  real  enthusiasm,  a  common 
resentment  at  the  idea  they  must  needs  have  one 
from  England  to  command  them,  brought  every 
citizen  to  his  feet,  even  Mr.  Stoughton,  most  in- 
censed of  all. 

In  the  flush  of  a  fellow-feeling  again  flowing  in  a 
single  current  their  patriotism  brimmed  the  bar- 
riers the  stranger  had  exposed,  and  each,  gazing 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  209 

upon  his  comrades,  thrilled  with  the  sure  sense  of 
their  fundamental  union. 

"  Captain  Verring Gentlemen "  Strong 

emotion  showed  in  the  Governor's  face  and  gripped 
upon  his  words  so  that  they  began  with  struggle, 
and  ended  with  a  solemnity  more  potent  than 
gratitude.  "May  God  preserve  me  worthy  of 
your  trust. " 

It  welded  the  group  to  a  closer  fervour.  Was  he 
not  their  own?  New  England  from  his  boyhood 
and  no  vainglorious  alien  from  over  seas  ! 

Roger's  face,  alight  with  the  purest  champion- 
ship, with  an  exultation  for  his  hero  dearer  than 
praise  for  himself,  caught  the  look  of  Sir  Hum- 
phrey Wildglass  and  knew  it  for  the  look  of  a  hypo- 
crite, and  as  they  lowered  the  empty  wine-cups 
the  man's  glance  crossed  his  own — smiling  faintly 
with  a  subtle  menace. 


CHAPTER  XV 

"o  SWEET  CONTENT" 

IF  distrust  were  uppermost,  another  thought 
was  dominant  as  Roger  entered  again  the 
square  parlours.  It  blended  with  the  scene 
just  past  to  give  his  bearing  that  force  of  individual 
distinction  whose  outer  calm  strengthens,  to  con- 
ceal unwonted  fire. 

Mercy  Apthorpe  was  with  his  mother,  and  he 
joined  them,  meeting  the  subject  of  their  talk  with 
whimsical  repudiation. 

"  Mercy  will  have  it,  Roger,  thou  hast  a  look  like 
me,  when  the  whole  world  knows  thou'rt  featured 
like  thy  father. "  Madam  Verring  spoke  with  a 
natural  animation  showing  through  the  sedateness 
of  long  training. 

"Roger? — Why  he  is  the  image  of  his  father!" 
Lady  Phips  had  added  herself  to  them,  drawing 
with  her  the  young  people  by  whom  she  was  sur- 
rounded. 

Mercy  stubbornly  shook  her  head. 

"I  leave  it  to  the  others,"  she  insisted.  "Mis- 
tress Armitage,  doth  not  Captain  Verring  resemble 
his  mother?" 

Roger,  with  one  of  the  impulses  that  were  an 
embarrassment  of  foolishness  to  his  father,  out  of 
keeping  with  the  unadorned  rigidity  of  a  godly  life, 
drew  his  mother  suddenly  nearer  and  bent  his  head 
closer  to  her  own. 

210 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  211 

"Now,"  he  interrupted  with  jesting  triumph, 
"who  dares  so  slander  my  mother  answers  to  me  ! " 

"  'Tis  true.  Speak,  Mistress  Armitage  !  Is 't  not 
true?"  cried  Mercy  eagerly.  "He  doth  look  like 
his  mother. " 

"Nay" — the  response  came  in  a  voice  curiously 
disturbed  but  rich  and  wonderful  with  meaning — 
"  He  is  his  mother — they're  but  one  creature.  " 

A  flush  of  pleasure  rose  in  Alison  Verring's  cheeks. 
She  turned  to  the  girl,  a  smile  ready  behind  the 
stately  quiet  of  her  wonted  manner,  but  Roger  had 
raised  his  head  at  the  same  time  and  she  saw  the 
glance  the  two  interchanged,  Roger's  eyes  full  of 
comprehension  and  something  more,  the  girl  still 
amazed  but  with  a  confidence,  almost  an  intimacy 
of  gaze  newly  come,  and  behind  the  look  the  stir  of 
the  waters  an  angel  troubles. 

Madam  Verring's  lips  came  soberly  together. 
She  did  not  know  that  the  look  was  remembrance, 
and  the  hidden  agitation  the  shock  of  the  meeting 
of  past  and  present. 

"Who  speaks  of  likenesses?"  Sir  Humphrey 
approached  from  the  opposite  side,  being  always 
careful  not  to  place  himself  too  near  a  younger 
man. 

His  presence,  like  Roger's,  was  not  to  be  num- 
bered among  those  that  pass  unnoticed.  The 
charm  of  one  believed  to  know  the  life  of  the  King's 
court,  not  as  an  outsider  but  as  part  of  its  intricate 
and  doubtful  complications,  the  charm  of  the 
world's  man  to  the  untravelled,  the  man  of  fabled 
experience  to  those  of  simple  lives,  imposed  itself 
upon  the  throng. 


212 


"Mistress  Apthorpe  should  plead  guilty.  'Twas 
she  began  the  theme. "  Temple  Armitage  met  the 
cavalier  with  ease  of  cordial  understanding,  no 
ripple  of  discomposure  left  to  show  where  the  waters 
had  been  stirred. 

The  sensitive  Mercy  coloured  under  Sir  Hum- 
phrey's look  even  more  darkly  than  under  Roger's. 
She  had  intuitively  discovered  that  Roger's  was  not 
for  her,  but  the  accomplished  gaze  of  Sir  Humphrey 
had  more  personal  appeal.  As  he  addressed  her 
she  had  looked  from  Temple  to  him  and  now  she 
fixed  her  look  again  upon  the  girl. 

"I  think,  Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass, "  she  an- 
swered with  a  shy  boldness,  "that  your  features, 
save  the  mouth  perchance,  be  much  like  those  of 
Mistress  Armitage. " 

Roger  raised  his  eyes  sharply.  The  laughter 
that  followed  hid,  he  thought,  something  startled 
and  fugitive  that  crossed  Sir  Humphrey's  face. 
Mercy  was  right.  The  features  were  like. 

"My  gratitude — humble  and  devoted — Mistress 
Apthorpe,  and  our  united  plea  for  mercy  to  her 

whom  the Now  how  have  I  offended?"  as 

the  laughter  grew. 

"You  use  Mistress  Apthorpe's  name  somewhat 
freely  when  you  plead  for  .Mercy, "  Roger  ex- 
plained in  the  meaningless  tone  of  unsubstantial 
talk. 

"  How  now,  Mary  !  All  the  windows  closed  ?  Tis 
warm  here. "  The  Governor's  discomfort  brought 
another  smile  to  his  wife's  lips. 

"Sir  William  would  have  every  house  a  ship! 
'Tis  his  ambition  to  live  in  a  draught  like  a  gale ! " 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  213 

»• 
she  interpreted.     "  I  have  much  ado  to  keep  the 

ornaments  from  blowing  out  the  doors  !  Dost  not 
know,"  she  demanded  of  him  impressively,  "that 
moths  and  beetles — and  mosquitoes — wait  with- 
out ? " 

"  Who  careth  ?  A  man  must  breathe.  "  He  put 
his  hand  with  a  gesture  of  suffocation  to  his  tight 
and  many-folded  stock.  "An1  you  would  not  be  a 
widow  let  us  have  air.  " 

"Roger," — Lady  Phips  yielded  with  smiling  in- 
dulgence, pretending  a  sigh. — "Open  the  big  hall 
window,  wilt  thou.  One  must  pleasure  the  man 
else  he'll  be  leaving  me  for  another  voyage. " 

Roger  turned  promptly  to  Mistress  Armitage. 

"Will  you  come  with  me  and  help  preserve  the 
Governor  to  his  office?  Lady  Phips  will  put  a 
greater  faith  in  my  performance,  so.  " 

Sir  Humphrey  was  hardly  conscious  of  the  in- 
tention of  the  words  before  the  two  were  gone. 
The  impassivity  of  his  handsome  face  showed  an 
amused  ripple. 

"Outflanked,"  he  murmured  to  himself  with  a 
smile  that  might  have  been  a  benediction. 

The  window  swung  easily  on  un jarring  hinges. 

For  a  little  neither  spoke.  The  damp  air  draw- 
ing gently  through  the  lace-framed  opening  coaxed 
her  hair  from  its  confinement  and  ringed  it  in  soft 
curling  ends  upon  her  forhead. 

. "  You  had  forgotten  me,  "  he  said  at  last.  There 
was  no  reproach  in  the  words  and  in  her  answer  no 
denial  of  the  bond  made  by  the  common  memory. 

"You  were  not  'Captain  Verring'  on  the  Araby 
Rose. ". 


2i4  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

He  looked  up  apprehensively  as  she  uttered  the 
name  of  the  ship  but  none  were  near  enough  to 
hear. 

"Nor  were  you  Mistress  Armitage,  "  he  answered. 

"  Yet  you  knew  me  ! " 

"There  could  not  be  two  of  the  Captain's  Little 
Maid.  Where  have  you  been — since  ? " 

Others  had  opened  the  door  close  beside  them 
and  were  standing  at  the  threshold  disputing  as  to 
whether  the  rain  had  ceased.  Roger's  voice  had 
sunk  to  the  note  that  holds  its  distinctness,  yet 
exists  for  none  but  the  listener.  "  Perhaps  I  should 
not  recal  that  time  ?  'Tis  too  painful " 

Her  look  lifted  itself  to  his,  undissembling. 

"  I  dwell  on  it  often, "  she  said.  "  I  have  for- 
gotten nothing.  I  had  not  forgotten  you.  But 
there  is  none  to  whom  I  can  speak  of  it.  My  guar- 
dian is  far  away,  and  to  Madam  Chanterell — I 
cannot  mention  it. "  Her  eyes  sought  the  night 
and  the  shine  of  candles  in  the  wet  drip  from  tender 
leaves. 

"I  think,"  she  went  on,  "Madam  can  hardly 
forgive  Captain  Phips  for  saving  me  since  he  had  no 
woman  upon  the  Rose  to  bear  me  company  !  As  if 
any  care  for  a  frightened  child  could  have  been  bet- 
ter than  his  own  ! "  A  little  warmth  of  remembered 
displeasure  had  crept  into  her  tone.  There  was 
about  her  a  solitariness  incongruous  with  her  beauty 
and  the  devotion  that  seemed  ready  to  spring  up 
and  cling  to  her  on  every  hand. 

"  How  came How  long  have  you  been  with 

Madam  Chanterell?"  he  asked. 

"Hath  Captain  Phips  not  told  you?     But  then 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  215 

he  hath  not  seen  me,  and  my  letters — they  have  all 
strangely  miscarried. " 

He  bent  a  little  toward  her  from  the  broad  win- 
dow seat  and  spoke  still  lower  as  the  more  curious 
passed  and  repassed. 

"  Only  once  have  I  had  any  word  of  you.  'Twas 
in  a  battle.  A  ball  ploughed  up  the  water  beneath 
our  bow  as  Captain  Phips — Sir  William — came 
toward  me.  And  I  grew  bold  and  questioned 
him. " 

"Of  me?"     Her  eyes  were  gravely  on  his  face. 

"I  asked,  'Is  it  well  with  the  Little  Maid?'  and 
he  said  so  I  could  hear  above  the  noise,  'Yea,  'tis 
well.  God  be  thanked — I  believe  'tis  well ! '  In 
all  the  years  I  have  had  no  other  word, "  he  re- 
peated. 

' '  Was  it  the  battle — that  recalled Were  you 

remembering  the  Walrus?"  She  still  watched 
him,  intent  upon  his  answer. 

"That — and  the  night  when  the  Captain  came 
over  the  side  with  you  in  his  arms.  " 

She  grew  paler,  exalting  the  dark  shining  of  her 
eyes. 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  she  begged.  "Save  for 

some  hateful  words  of Save  for  a  few  vague 

hints  I  never  knew.  But  it  was  a  tale  of  a  hero — 
of  that  I  am  sure.  " 

"  It  will  not  sadden  you  ? " 

A  half  mirthful  gleam  appeared  in  the  earnest  of 
her  look.  "I  am  not  of  those  whose  sensibilities 
cannot  bear  the  truth,  "  she  said  with  a  little  shrug. 
"  'Tis  a  sad  confession  of  indelicacy  !" 

Roger's  smile  of  understanding  gave  instant  re- 


2i6  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

sponse.  Something  he  would  have  said  hovered  a 
moment  unspoken  and  he  grew  silent. 

"  Tell  me, "  she  demanded  again.  "  Nay,  Madam, 
there  is  no  draught — I  thank  you — I  love  the  air.  " 

But  Madam  Chanterell  came  fussily  close  and 
would  have  withdrawn  her  from  the  window. 

"Come,  Temple.  Lady  Phips  is  waiting  to  hear 
thee  sing  with  Sir  Humphrey  the  madrigal  thou 
gavest  my  brother  yesternight.  The  dampness 
will  hoarsen  thee." 

"  I  fear  it  not,  "  the  girl  answered  steadily.  "  Is 
she  truly  waiting  or  will  a  few  minutes " 

"She  waits  now,"  Madam  insisted.  " 'Twere 
rude  to  delay,  and  Sir  Humphrey " 

"Pray,  Mistress — Sir  Humphrey  can  wait  pa- 
tiently if  the  boon  be  worth  the  waiting, "  began 
the  cavalier,  but  the  Maid  had  risen. 

"  I  shall  claim  Mistress  Armitage  when  the  song 

is  ended If  you  would  still  hear  the  tale?" 

There  was  nothing  unpleasantly  assertive  in  Rog- 
er's look  but  it  overbore  the  obstacle  of  Madam 
Chanterell's  displeasure,  making  to  her  the  an- 
nouncement, leaving  the  decision  to  the  girl,  ignor- 
ing Sir  Humphrey. 

"  Unless  it  take  you  from  duties  to  other  friends, " 
She  had  given  her  hand  to  the  cavalier. 

'"Other  friends'  !"  Roger  heard  Madam  Chan- 
terell exclaim.  "  Thou  art  in  haste  ! " 

To  the  watcher  there  was  more  pain  in  the  har- 
mony the  two  figures  made  than  in  the  confidence 
of  the  man  who  had  supplanted  him.  Sir  Hum- 
phrey made  him  feel  a  crudeness  in  his  youth,  un- 
sophisticated, almost  boorish.  With  dismal  facil- 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  217 

ity  he  exaggerated  the  contrast,  possessed  only  of 
its  unkindness,  callous  to  his  own  advantage. 

The  cavalier  was  dressed  with  the  taste  he 
might  have  bestowed  for  a  royal  ball,  and  there  was 
in  his  manner  a  perfection  that  gi  eater  men  had  lost 
time  in  striving  to  attain.  More  glances  followed 
Mistress  Armitage  enviously  than  she  saw,  as  Sir 
Humphrey  seated  her  at  the  spinet  and  bent  above 
her  as  if  to  consult  upon  the  song. 

There  was  evidently  a  laughing  quarrel.  Roger 
marked  it  as  he  sought  Faith  Apthorpe,  and  stood 
beside  her  chair,  feeling  certain  her  attention  would 
be  bestowed  like  his  own. 

"  She  is  going  to  sing  ! "  the  girl  whispered. 

Roger's  face  kindled  and  Faith's  eyes  held  him 
for  an  instant  with  zealous  sympathy.  As  she 
looked  down,  a  flush,  the  glow  of  her  own  enthusi- 
asm, transformed  her  all  at  once  into  a  loveliness 
she  had  not  had  before. 

Mistress  Armitage  had  seen  the  revelatory  flash 
in  Roger's  look  and  the  girl's  flush.  A  smile 
twitched  at  the  corners  of  Sir  Humphrey's  lips. 

"Let  it  be  'Sweet  Content'  as  you  say,  Mis- 
tress, "  he  assented  amiably,  '  'but  I  should  have 
preferred  the  madrigal — of  love. "  His  voice, 
flexible  to  his  will,  held  just  the  measure  of  sug- 
gestion which  he  dared  give  it. 

Roger  could  not  see  that  there  was  no  conscious- 
ness in  her  thanks  for  the  concession ;  the  man's 
attitude  was  so  full  of  a  pleased  possession,  no  on- 
looker could  guess  the  ardour  to  be  meant  for  the 
spectator  rather  than  for  the  maid. 

"  'Art  thou  poor,  yet  hast  thou  golden  slumbers? 
O  sweet  content!'  " 


218          THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

With  her  voice  fell  silence,  eager,  startled,  the 
silence  of  indrawn  breaths.  No  voice  like  hers  had 
ever  sounded  in  the  New  England  wilderness. 

"  'Art  thou  rich,  yet  is  thy  mind  perplexed? 
O,  punishment!' " 

The  man's  tones,  blending  rarely,  wove  a  fine  en- 
tanglement. 

"  'Dost  thou  laugh  to  see  how  fools  are  vexed 
To  add  to  golden  numbers  golden  numbers  ? 

O  sweet  content!       O  sweet,  O  sweet  content!'" 

Judge  Sewall  kept  time  softly  with  his  foot; 
his  look  had  a  fine  benignity.  None  stirred  from 
his  place.  Roger  was  safe  to  look  his  fill. 

The  girl's  dress  flowed  about  her  in  a  magic  of 
folds  where  the  light  of  the  candelabra  lingered. 
From  the  fine  oval  of  the  strong  and  delicate  face 
to  the  hem  of  the  brocade,  softer  of  finish  than  the 
stiff  robe  of  the  Governor's  lady,  she  was  herself 
a  melody  with  the  song. 

As  if  for  the  first  time,  Roger  felt  the  spell,  the 
mystery !  Hate  and  love  confronted  each  other 
in  his  soul  and  their  contest  was  an  agony.  Hate 
of  this  man  who  dared  to  come  so  near,  to  look — 
as  he  did  look,  upon  her  fairness.  Love,  love  itself, 
for  even  as  his  senses  trembled  he  needed  nothing 
to  show  him  that  were  another  to  be  suddenly 
dowered  with  all  the  wonder  of  her  beauty,  and  she 
to  be  left  within  that  other's  outer  self,  it  would  be 
still  for  her  he  sought,  for  her,  the  Little  Maid. 

As  the  song  finished,  there  was  for  a  moment  a 
pause,  then  a  sound  faint,  murmurous,  in  the  be- 
ginning, but  rising  to  a  very  clamour  of  delight  and 
pleading. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  219 

"Another.  'Twould  be  cruel  to  refuse.  "  Lady 
Phips  had  laid  both  hands  tenderly  upon  the  girl's 
bare  shoulders.  "Sir  William  asks  for  it,"  she 
entreated. 

"You  know  well  the  plea  to  choose,  my  Lady," 
laughed  Sir  Humphrey.  If  the  tone  sneered,  the 
manner  flattered,  "Shall  it  be  the  madrigal?"  he 
asked  the  girl. 

"Nay" — she  ran  her  fingers  in  a  soft  prelude 
upon  the  keys — "we'll  make  separate  choice  and 
let  them  listen  at  their  liking. " 

The  silence  fell  again,  perfect,  unbroken.  This 
singing  was  not  what  they  knew  as  singing,  the 
decorous  intoning  of  psalms.  It  was  a  ballad  of 
old  Devon  she  had  chosen,  a  parting,  a  weary  wait- 
ing, and  after  despairing  grief  the  return.  The  air 
was  simple,  but  from  the  keys  she  woke  a  speaking 
harmony  that  filled  the  tale  with  its  whole  intent. 

Nicolas  Verring  gave  a  quick  heed  to  the  words. 
By  them,  monotonously  chanted,  he  had  been 
swung  to  sleep  in  a  hooded  cradle  when  the  colony 
was  young.  But  the  softening  in  his  face  was  no 
sooner  come  than  sternness  and  reprobation  suc- 
ceeded. 

As  the  Maid  rose,  Sir  Humphrey  slipped  into  her 
seat,  his  eyes  on  her  face  as  he  began. 

"  'Bid  me  to  live  and  I  will  live 
Thy  Protestant  to  be.'" 

A  shiver  of  shocked  delight  ran  through  the  circle 
of  Puritan  maids. 

If  the  girl  had  sung  with  an  interpretation  loftier 
than  the  poet's,  Sir  Humphrey's  music  was  the  very 
abandonment  of  the  sensuous. 


220  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

The  room  sank  to  a  more  deadly  hush,  the  young 
people  stealing  glances  of  bewildered  pleasure  at 
one  another,  the  elders  set  straightly  in  a  stare. 

"  'O  bid  me  die  and  I  will  dare 
E'en  death  to  die  for  thee.'" 

For  Roger  the  strength  of  that  he  had  tried  to 
hold  in  a  struggling  subjection  had  already  over- 
come. He  was  no  longer  his  own,  but  Love's.  To 
a  man  like  Roger  Verring  the  knowledge  was  a 
sacrament ;  it  deepened  in  his  face  the  lines  of  power 
and  heightened  the  beauty  of  his  unstained  man- 
hood. He  was  not  aware  of  the  tenseness  of  his 
gaze ;  all  the  might  and  fervour  of  a  strong  nature 
concentrated  in  the  look  and  her  own  rose  to  meet 
it  as  if  drawn  by  an  unconscious  prompting  from 
within. 

"  'Thou  art  my  life,  my  love,  my  heart, 

The  very  eyes  of  me, 
And  hast  command  of  every  part, 
To  live  and  die  for  thee.' " 

The  girl  had  stepped  backward  out  of  the  singer's 
ken,  but  as  he  sang  the  last  word  Sir  Humphrey 
moved  a  little  in  his  seat  and  raised  his  glance  to 
find  her.  Its  graceful  homage,  its  ripe  adoration, 
were  startled  into  something  less  devout  under  his 
suddenly  lowered  lids ;  but  he  would  have  been  hard 
pressed  to  find  a  lack  in  her  replies,  or  to  discover 
a  consciousness  in  voice  or  manner  as  Roger  ap- 
proached. 

"Temple,  my  dear "  It  was  Madam  Chan- 

terell  again  masterfully  claiming  her  charge.  "I 
want  thee  to  see  the  amazing  cup  sent  by  his  Grace 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  221 

of  Albemarle  and  the  others  to  Lady  Phips.  Sir 
Humphrey,  have  you  seen " 

"  'Tis  extraordinary  pretty."  The  young  man 
who  spoke  had  edged  nearer  to  Mistress  Armitage 
while  the  others  talked.  "If  you  will,  Mis- 
tress  " 

"Nay,  Thomas,  not  so  fast."  Roger  had  come 
directly  to  her  and  stood  waiting  with  perfect  deter- 
mination. "  Mistress  Armitage  is  pledged  to  me.  " 

"Are  pledges  then  always  redeemed  in  this  new 
part  of  the  world  ?  "  jested  Sir  Humphrey. 

"My  pledges  are  redeemed  in  any  part  of  the 
world,  "  laughed  the  girl. 

"Then  are  you  more  than  mortal.  One  was  al- 
ready sure  of  that !  For  the  rest  of  us  Fate  some- 
times clips  performance  ere't  be  done,"  he  an- 
swered with  a  laugh  that  challenged  hers. 

"My  brother  will  soon  expect  us" — Madam 
Chanterell  interposed  as  the  girl  would  have  gone. 
"I  fear,  Master — Master " 

"Captain  Verring,  Madam,"  The  Governor 
genially  supplied  the  pause.  "  'Tis  a  name  also 
good  for  pledges.  You'll  not  be  long  ignorant  of 
it  in  Boston.  'Deed  and  more  than  once  it  hath 
been  spoken  at  court  when  Mr.  Mather  and  I  had 
the  King's  ear. " 

Madam  Chanterell  looked  coldly  both  upon  the 
Governor  and  upon  Roger.  Sir  Humphrey  an- 
swered for  her. 

"Madam  Chanterell  will  be  the  first  to  regret  an 
ignorance  so  much  her  loss, "  lie  said  with  a  look 
at  Roger  of  such  apparent  amiability  that  Judge 
Sewall  commented  as  the  group  drifted  apart,  "  'Tis 


222  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

a  terrible  civil  fellow,  though  I  like  not  his  wig !" 

Roger  returned  the  look  with  one  as  imperturb- 
ably  gracious. 

"You  place  the  word  badly,  Sir  Humphrey," 
he  corrected.  "  'Tis  for  me,  not  Madam  Chanterell, 
to  'regret'. " 

Madam  Chanterell  smiled  against  her  will,  feeling 
again  the  unwelcome  sense  of  his  attraction. 

Alison  Verring,  who  had  regarded  the  little  war  of 
wills  from  near  at  hand,  felt  a  thrill  of  pleasure  as 
Roger  and  the  Maid  moved  down  the  room,  but  the 
pride  was  small  balm  to  the  stronger  disapproval 
and  the  sharper  pain  of  loss  with  which  she  followed 
her  son. 

The  songs  had  offended  her  morbid  reticence. 
That  a  maid  should  sing  of  love,  and  with  expres- 
sion, argued  that  she  had  thought  of  it,  and  to  own 
to  thoughts  which  in  her  girlhood  she  had  counted 
enemies  and  striven  with  prayer  to  conquer  seemed 
to  her  unmaidenly  and  bold.  The  power  to  in- 
terpret was  a  thing  apart  from  her  Puritan  ideals, 
a  sin  of  mummery  and  unpleasing  in  the  sight  of 
God. 

Nicolas  Verring  felt  no  pride.  The  whole  race 
and  kind  which  this  girl  and  her  friends  represented 
were  to  him  anathema,  cursed  of  Heaven  and  cast 
out  from  the  strenuous  companionship  of  them  who 
sought  salvation,  their  every  charm  lent  by  the 
Devil  for  unhallowed  ends.  He  observed  his  son 
grimly  as  the  two  paused  before  the  cabinet. 
Without  the  mother's  prescience  he  yet  suf- 
fered. 

The  cup,  massive  and  delicately  graved,  glowed 
richly  within  the  ebony  walls. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  223 

'  'Tis  like  himself — pure  gold, "  the  girl  ex- 
claimed. "Was  Lady  Phips  not  well  pleased? 
But  'tis  certain  she  was.  A  husband  so  honest,  so 
honoured " 

"Lady  Phips  was  chiefly  surprised  to  find  hon- 
esty held  a  virtue  worthy  of  knighthood,  and  such 
gifts!"  Roger  answered.  "Shall  I  take  it  out  for 
you  ? ' ' 

"  We  must  not  tarry  for  the  cup.  I  may  have  no 
other  opportunity  for  the  hearing  of  the  tale. " 
Her  manner  grew  somewhat  constrained. 

Roger  became  silent,  feeling  the  shade  upon  her 
mood.  But  the  girl  came  forth  from  her  brief  ab- 
straction smiling. 

"The  New  England  maids  are  very  lovely,"  she 
said  as  they  passed  Faith  Apthorpe.  "I  should 
like  much  to  know  Mistress  Apthorpe  and  her  sis- 
ter." 

"  And  Mistress  Faith  is  so  much  of  the  same  mind 
she  hath  no  other  topic  to  her  discourse.  She 
talked  of  naught  but  you,  both  at  dinner  and  as 
you  sang. " 

"As  I  sang?"  The  girl  interrupted  as  if  recall- 
ing something. 

"Aye.  She  hath  you  in  a  very  ecstasy  of  ad- 
miration. " 

"Because  she  doth  not  know  me;  'tis  a  young 
maid's  way, "  she  made  answer  with  an  indulgence 
so  matronly  wise  she  seemed  but  doubly  girlish  for 
its  kindly  humour. 

Roger  had  found  for  them  the  only  possible  iso- 
lation, a  corner  left  vacant  behind  the  Lieutenant- 
Governor  and  a  small  party  of  his  own  sort,  who 


224  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

exhibited  a  tendency  to  separate  from  the  throng 
mixed  but  not  combined  by  the  warmth  of  the 
Governor's  hospitality.  They  turned  curious  eyes 
upon  the  absorption  of  the  two. 

"The  Captain,  Sir  William — says  I  owe  nothing 
to  him,  but  all  to  you.  He  hath  told  me  how  you 
remembered — even  wounded " 

Roger  broke  in  with  swift  denial. 
'  'Twas  he  alone  saved   you.     But   Maccartey 
should  be  here.     You  remember  Maccartey?" 

"The  mate?"  She  was  speaking  more  eagerly, 
more  like  the  Little  Maid  who  had  told  her  story  in 
the  Captain's  cabin. 

Roger  had  a  theme  he  loved  and  in  the  tale 
he  was  at  once  and  wholly  himself,  Men  of  a 
more  artificial  mould  were  wont  to  show  their 
better  truth  to  Temple  Armitage,  what  there  was  of 
the  genuine  left  in  them  rousing  and  reanimating 
itself  to  meet  the  clear  honesty  of  her.  Rarely  even 
in  his  earliest  memories  had  Roger  been  free  to  be 
himself,  but  now  he  spoke  out,  undisguised,  un- 
ashamed, conscious  of  no  quarrel  with  expression 
save  that  it  lacked  the  measure  of  its  attempt. 

The  movement  about  them,  shifting  in  the 
changes  of  an  event  whose  like  for  stateliness  and 
true  simplicity  no  other  city  of  the  world  could  have 
shown,  was  quite  forgotten. 

The  Walrus  plunging  upon  the  rocks,  the  strain- 
ing of  the  rescuers  toward  the  drifting  ship,  the 
terror  of  the  men  who  waited  in  the  boat,  the  whole 
scene,  wrapped  in  gloom  and  loud  with  the  sound 
of  winds  and  breakers,  was  more  actual  than  the 
men  and  women  who  went  and  came  in  the  pano- 
rama of  the  set  and  ordered  room. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  225 

The  lowered  voice,  the  frequent  interruption  in 
the  gayer  tones  of  others,  the  lapsing  again  into  the 
intimacy  of  a  shared  and  secret  remembrance,  gave 
to  the  story  a  double  effect.  If  Temple  Armitage 
had  felt  any  surprise  at  the  self-possession  with 
which  he  had  taken  her  from  the  very  teeth  of  her 
warders,  she  might  have  felt  an  even  deeper  amaze- 
ment as  his  Puritan  reserve  melted  into  the  elo- 
quence of  his  words. 

"So  he  brought  you — in  his  arms — and  as  he 
lifted  you  above  the  bulwarks,  the  light  of  the 
Walrus  burning  high  in  the  dark  fell  across  the 
Araby  Rose — and  you  opened  your  eyes " 

He  stopped  there,  his  look  completing  what  the 
silence  lacked.  He  could  have  looked  no  otherwise 
upon  the  rescued  child.  She  trembled  and  in  her 
eyes,  mournful  and  sweet  as  then,  there  rose  a  mist 
of  tears. 

He  moved  a  little,  involuntarily,  to  shelter  her 
from  those  who  walked  without  upon  the  porch. 

"My  aunt — my  guardian — never  knew."  The 
girl  waited  a  minute,  her  hands  together,  the  fingers 
intertwining  in  the  clinging  fashion  of  helpless  pain 
he  remembered.  Old  tenderness  renewed  wrought 
at  his  heart  grown  to  naught  but  a  measure  for  her 
grief. 

"It  killed  her,"  the  Maid  went  on.  "The  plan- 
tation is  sold  and  Mr.  Amory — he  has  travelled 
much  since  then.  He  would  not  have  me  with  him 
— for  my  sake.  But  what  cared  I  for  danger — to 

being  alone — to "  She  paused  abruptly.  That 

is  why  even  my  name  is  changed — for  safety.  He 
wished  it.  The  names  were  of  her  family — Aunt 


226  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Lotta's — Armitage  and  Temple.  For  myself  I 
would  bear  my  true  title  before  all  the  world  and 
be  Frances  Bellingham  as  I  should  ! " 

"It  is  needful.  Who  knows "  Roger  be- 
gan, but  she  interrupted. 

"In  less  than  a  year  I  shall  be  of  age.  Then  I 
shall  be  myself — and  then  my  uncle  hath  promised 
he  will  come  for  me. " 

"And  your  cousin?     Know  you " 

"In  London  a  few  months  since.  I  have  not 
seen  him.  He  hath  not  even  tried  to  prove  my 
death.  My  Uncle  Amory  approved  my  coming 
here.  He  harpeth  ever  on  my  safety,  and  Boston 
is  far  from  London.  " 

Roger  raised  his  eyes  to  discover  a  gaze  fixed  so 
intently  upon  the  Maid  it  appeared  to  read  her  lips. 
It  was  withdrawn  even  as  he  looked  but  cold  dis- 
trust settled  upon  his  heart  as  Sir  Humphrey  passed 
on. 

"Poor  Madam  Chanterell, "  the  girl  was  saying 
softly.  "  She  will  not  leave  her  brother  though  she 
hates  the  provinces  with  a  hatred  like  no  other. 
'Tis  well-nigh  amusing,  yet  piteous,  too,  since  'tis 
affection  brings  her  here.  And  'twill  be  worse  out 
of  the  town. " 

"  Out  of  the  town  !     You " 

"Go  to  Andover,  a  village  northward.  Sir 
John  Winchcombe,  who  is  ever  keen  upon  some 
new  scheme,  hath  purchased  there  a  goodly  farm; 
an'  the  Indians  devour  us  not,  we  linger  till  the 
autumn. " 

'  'Tis  not  safe,  believe  me, "  Roger  protested. 
"  'Tis  no  place  for  women.     Urge  Madam  Chan- 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  227 

terell  she  should  abide  here.  The  Nipmucks  be 
showing  their  teeth  in  all  these  northerly  borders. 
Surely  Sir  John  Winchcombe  cannot  have  knowl- 
edge  " 

"  He  is  of  those  who  fear  nothing  their  eyes  have 
not  beheld !  'All  that  the  provinces  need, '  saith 
Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass,  'is  men.'  'Tis  Sir  Hum- 
phrey has  clinched  the  whole  matter.  He  laughs 
the  danger  to  open  scorn. " 

"What  can  Sir  Humphrey  know  ?  I  thought  him 
but  late  from  London!"  Roger's  face  was  dark 
with  more  than  mere  anxiety.  "There  is  no 
worthy  courage  in  tempting  the  savages  to  war 
with  women.  None  who  had  seen  a  woman  in  their 
hands  would  laugh  at  mention  of  them.  I  would  I 
might  be  near, "  he  ended  impetuously. 

"To  see  the  evil  prophecy  fulfilled  ! "  Her  face, 
grown  somewhat  cold  at  his  first  words,  smiled  at 
the  wish. 

She  spoke  further  in  a  confidence  that  bore  a  cer- 
tain truth  behind  the  smiling. 

"Shall  I  tell  you  that  which  I  fear  more  than 
wolves,  or  bears,  or  red  men  ?  'Tis  the  solitude.  " 

Unceasing  in  the  long  hours  of  long  days  and 
nights  to  follow,  the  words  resaid  themselves  in 
Roger's  thoughts,  and  the  smile,  behind  whose  sur- 
face jest  he  saw  the  loneliness,  dwelt  with  him,  a 
sadder  presence  than  his  fears. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

AT   THE    SIGN    OF    THE    ORANGE    TREE 

THE  Orange  Tree  Inn  was  darkened  and 
sealed  against  the  files.  All  save  one  cor- 
ner, where  the  windows  of  its  "best  cham- 
ber" were  wide  open,  to  the  scandal  of  the  landlord 
and  the  distress  of  such  housewives  as  passed  that 
way. 

Within,  Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass  had  wrought 
busily  all  the  morning.  In  a  strangled  heap  upon 
the  floor  was  flung  a  patch-worked  cover;  on  the 
pine  surface  exposed  above  the  walnut  table  legs  the 
leaves  of  a  considerable  manuscript  accumulated 
fast.  Nothing  in  the  room  was  in  order  save  this 
manuscript  and  the  figure,  freed  from  waistcoat  and 
doublet,  that  bent  above  the  table.  White  lawn 
was  rolled  back  above  the  elbows  and  the  folds, 
sheer  and  fine,  from  the  looms  of  Dutch  weavers, 
bloused  themselves  in  wrinkles  upon  the  straight 
back. 

Below  the  fluttered  canopy  of  the  bed  lay  wig  and 
sword;  over  chair  and  stool  straggled  a  miscellany 
of  masculine  fripperies,  long  silken  hose  stretching 
like  tentacles  from  central  convolutions  of  brocade 
and  lustrous  cloth,  blue  satin  and  silver  lace. 

The  door  was  locked  and  only  the  August  sun 
peered  at  the  gray  patches  mixed  in  the  blackness 
of  the  man's  hair  and  at  the  hard,  perfidious 
strength  lined  openly  in  his  handsome  face. 

228 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  229 

'"Dearlie  Beloved,'"  began  the  first  letter, 
"'Whereas  the  Scripture  moveth  us  in  sundrie 
places  to  aknoledg  and  confess '  the  'manifold  sins' 
— of  others — and  whereas  it  seemeth  cure  own  may 
bee  somewhat  more  manifolded  than  att  ve  fyrste 
wee  thought — I  mak  my  honest  confecion  devout- 
lie — smilyinge,  since  ye  Pilgrimage  fareth  wel. 
And  soe  hearken ! 

"In  ye  beginng  I  was  but  dewbius,  seeing  'twas  no 
grate  summe  ye  forrainers  will  paye.  However 
that  affaire  mendeth. 

"And  now — dearlie  beloved — cometh  ye  better 
parte.  The  Lamb  wch  thou  mayst  remembr  was 
loste  to  the  House  of  Bellingham  hath  been  found 
and  the  Shepherd  wil,  Diabolo  volente,  brynge  it 
home  in  hys  armes  (or  at  ye  beste  its  Fleece  in  hys 
pouch) ! 

"It  was  ye  nyghte  of  ye  arrival  of  Phips — wel-fed 
and  noblie  harnessd — y*  first  I  spied  out  this  Loste 
One !  Culdst  see  the  Lamb  wuldst  ne'er  give  thy 
consente  to  the  sinnynge — 'Tis  the  fairest  of  al 
flocks  in  severall  continents — and  the  worser  Home 
of  this  Dilemma  (even  to  mee)  looketh  not  soe  ill ! 
Namelie  to  tak  the  Lamb  untoe  my  Bosom  and 
Cherishe  it — Fleece  and  al — as  mine  Own.  To  this 
ende  I  mak  a  leisurlie  progresse,  fearynge  nought 
amongst  these  villainous  clods  save  an  it  bee  need- 
ful to  dispose  of  one  lustie  yonge  Captain  of  militia 
who  casteth  greedie  lookes  upon  my  Eweling. 

"The  present  warder  of»  the  Fleece  regardeth  me 
with  an  unctuous,  approving  eye — (and  the  Puri- 
tane  youthe  with  a  sillie  disdaine).  For  the  Lamb 
— 'twil  bleat  but  coylie  for  the  practiced  Shepherd. 


230  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"Soe  seest  thou  there  bee  more  than  one  turning 
in  thys  Lane  of  Povertie  wherein  wee  stumble. 
Either  wil  suit — Moste  excellentlie  the  waye  of 
success  with  Fredom.  For  that  I  mad  attempt  the 
verie  nighte  of  my  disco verie,  fortune  favrng  and 
the  Lamb  strayeng  in  solitarie  places.  But  there 
was  base  interruption — (An  I  fynde  whose,  there 
maye  be  neede  of  more  confessynge  !) 

"But  Fortune  failed  mee  not  wholly.  I  had  mad 
diligent  inquiries  and  was  prepared  to  kill  or  woo, 
as  myghte  bee!"  [This  last  sentence  was  care- 
fully blotted  out  and  could  be  barely  guessed.] 
"At  some  expense  of  breth  I  hasted  to  my 
lodgings  and  fillynge  in  one  of  ye  blankes  in  yor 
goode  letters  presented  it  with  my  humble  per- 

sonne  to  Sir  John  W ,  hym  y1  was  concerned  in 

ye  compagnie  of  hys  cousin  (ye  Duke  of  A )  in 

the  matter  of  the  tresor.  'Tis  hee  and  hys  sistre 
doe  garde  ye  lamb. 

"Ere  the  Strayed  One  returned  I  was  wooing  the 
Sirens  with  the  Viol  of  Sir  John.  ('Tis  a  wonder — 
doubtless  the  worke  of  some  Italian — the  upper 
notes  being  as  pewr  as  bee  the  lowest.) 

"Att  ye  present  my  planne  goeth  thus.  The  nobel 
salvages  of  thes  uncuth  Wildes  mak  (for  a  price) 
ye  moste  trustie  wolfs  for  the  devourynge  of  any 
wander8  Lamb  whose  Fleece  be  coveted  more  than 
its  Bleatynge.  'Tis  alredie  sett  in  mocion  by  means 
of  the  forrainers  who  are  bounden  to  pleasure  mee. 

"None  knoweth  me  here.  Thy  cunynge  letters 
have  been  swallowd  intoe  the  gaping  mawes  of  al 
Bostoun,  and  I  goe  in  and  out  much  honored  as  one 
high  in  confidence  att  ye  Courte !  (Imbeciles ! 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  231 

Cochons  !  Fools  !  Were  that  but  a  veritie — as 
once  it  was  ere  my  starr  waned — think  they  y*  I 
wld  spende  an  houre  among  such-like  purblind 
yokels.  Faugh  !  Canting  Swine  that  walloe  in  a 
pius  treason  whereof  I  shal  have  certaine  proofs  to 
laye  before  the  august  Paire  at  Whitehall — and 
mak  my  peace  therewith.  Be  diligent.  Mind  thou 
singst  my  praises  wel  in  quarters  wee  wot  of. 

"With  the  moneys  of  the  forrainers  added  to  thine 
own  I  mak  a  faire  appearance  though  I  wuld  I  hadd 
again  my  faytheful  knave  to  uncrease  me  my  gar- 
ments !  As  'tis,  I  sett  the  Mode  for  everie  wuld- 
bee  Buck  of  this  Pharisaik  Town.  For  the  moste — 
they  bee  a  lugubrius  sett.  (Thir  Foodes  bee  excel- 
lente  and  of  good  drynkynge  no  lacke.) 

"Trulie  this  business  of  Monsieur  doth  sour  upon 
my  stomak — However,  better  a  soure  stomak  than 
an  emptie. 

"Heigho — dearlie  beloved — the  Lamb  is  faire. 
Nexte  to  myselfe  I  culd  love  it.  Of  a  truth  one 
waye  is  beste.  Mark  thou,  'twill  bee  no  bungler 
this  tyme. 

"Most  Timorous !  Trust  to  thy  Gregory  who 
waits  not  on  fortune  but  is  hys  own  Fortune,  and 
soe  farewell. 

"Postscriptum.  This  goeth  by  the  hande  of  B. 
Hee  dare  not  faile  us  even  shuld  hee  rede  the  whole, 
wch  hee  cannot  doe  or  I  misreckon  hys  lernynge. 
Yett  for  precaucion  marke  if  the  thred  drawne 
through  the  innr  fold  tear  upon  the  papr  as  thou 
openest.  (And  ye  thred  I  putt  where  only  thou 
culd  misse  it)  and  maye  the  man  y*  plaies  us  false 
bee  boiled  in  hel  eternallie. " 


233          THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  second  letter  was  in  French. 
"Monsieur: 

"As  to  the  affair  of  the  merchandise.  It  were  bet- 
ter destroyed  with  all  convenient  speed.  It  lieth 
at  this  present  in  the  house  of  Sir  John  Winch- 
combe  in  the  township  of  Andover,  between  the 
Shawsheen  river  and  a  mound  or  ridge  that  stretch- 
eth  parallel. 

"The  place  is  but  feebly  defended.  Send  those 
who  may  overcome  a  dozen.  It  will  suffice.  There 
is  but  one  thing  essential — to  make  an  end  of  the 
merchandise  we  have  mentioned,  but  if  it  be  needful 
to  that  end  to  captivate  all  of  the  indwellers,  see  to 
it  that  none  evade,  remembering  that  prisoners  are 
but  weariness  and  expense  to  the  captivators,  which 
weariness  your  allies  will  best  know  how  briefly  to 
avoid. 

"Let  Assoango  conduct  the  party — I  pray.  I 
purpose  to  add  myself  to  the  garrison  and  shall 
therefore  be  at  hand  to  indicate  the  convenient 
moment,  the  which  I  will  explain  to  him  when  I 
give  him  this  letter. 

"Make  no  mention  of  others  in  the  matter  lest  by 
so  doing  you  put  a  period  to  their  power  to  serve 
you. 

"Forward,  if  you  please,  the  cipher  enclosed,  with 
all  speed,  to  Montreal.  It  is  news  of  a  projected 
expedition.  There  is  within  the  Council  some  hos- 
tile movement  stirring.  I  send  further  advices 

concerning  it,  by  N to  the  region  above  Pema- 

quid.  He  hath  hope  of  finding  Pe"re  Sebastien  at 
the  place  you  designate.  (It  seemeth  likely  but  a 
false  alarm,  the  whole  country  here  being  given 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  233 

over  to  great  panic,  and  every  man  busied  upon  a 
devil-hunt  among  his  neighbours,  so  that  there's 
more  talk  of  witches  than  of  war.) 

"In  the  matter  of  my  remittances  I  would  have 
somewhat  more  of  faithfulness  in  time,  and  a  more 
careful  secrecy  observed.  These  be  not  regions 
where  messengers  may  not  be  robbed,  and  by  those 
in  power. 

"Fail  me  not  in  the  matter  of  the  merchandise. " 

He  addressed  this  letter  first: 

"Monsieur  le  Capitaine  le  V- 


Par  la  main  d'Assoango. " 

Then  he  set  himself  to  the  task  of  inserting  the 
thread  in  the  larger  packet,  folding  it  with  great 
care  and  printing  the  address : 

"Master  John, 

Abiding  with  Caleb  Golworthy, 
The  Sword  and  Mitre, 

Malbone    Rd,    Hartingwell. " 

The  smell  of  burning  wax  floated  from  the  open 
windows,  and  the  clerkly  toil  well  over,  the  writer 
stretched  comfortably  in  his  chair,  whereupon  he 
twisted  his  boots  in  the  table  "carpet"  and  swore. 

His  face  ready  to  as  many  changes  of  expression 
as  may  be  compassed  by  a  good  actor,  relaxed  after 
the  brief  irritation,  to  a  sneering  triumph.  The 
sun  had  crept  far  enough  to  beat  hardily  upon  him, 
and  he  rose,  whistling  loudly  as  he  cleared  the  room 
of  all  traces  of  his  late  employment. 

When  the  landlord's  knock  sounded  he  had  ad- 


234  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

justed  his  wig  and  was  trolling  with  a  vast  good 
humour  in  the  sound : 

"  'Pack  clouds  away,  and  welcome  day, 
With  night  we  banish  sorrow '" 

The  landlord  knocked  again. 

"  'Bird  prune  thy  wing,  nightingale  sing, 
To  give  my  love  good-morrow!'  " 

carolled  Sir  Humphrey,  yawning  prodigiously  be- 
tween phrases  as  he  unbarred  the  door. 

"Hey — Goodman  Bolt,  'tis  a  sad  dog  of  an  idler 
thou  entertainest.  Here  have  I  slept  away  the 
livelong  morning  upon  that  bed  !  Hot  water,  and 
cold,  and  briskly,  worthy  sir,  to  get  the  drowsiness 
from  my  eyes. " 

The  goodman  cast  a  doubtful  glance  upon  the 
rumpled  couch  and  the  litter  of  fine  clothes. 

"The  flies  be  thick,  "  he  remarked  glumly. 

"Aye,  and  thy  skull  thicker!  Spare  thy  com- 
menting. Make  haste. " 

The  landlord  stood  erect  in  the  doorway.  An 
angry  redness  spread  upon  his  sallow  skin. 

"Them  that  turn  night  into  day  and  day  into 
night,"  he  intoned,  "may  well  forget  gentle  man- 
ners in  the  perverting  of  nature.  Thou  wert  not  in 
thy  bed  before  midnight  and  so  thy  day  is  gone  to 
waste,  whereof  each  moment  shall  be  required  of 
thee.  The  slave  will  fetch  thy  hot  water  and  thy 
cold.  And  if  it  pleasure  thee  to  remain  longer  be- 
neath the  roof  of  Simon  Bolt,  see  to't  thou  put 
more  check  upon  a  godless  tongue.  The  Inn  of  the 
Orange  Tree  was  ever  of  a  decent  repute.  " 

"A  halt — a  halt,  good  Prater!"  cried  Sir  Hum- 
phrey and  he  smiled  amiably  upon  his  host.  "  'Tis 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  235 

my  solemn  resolve  to  take  pattern  by  thee  and  go 
to  slumber  with  the  fowls — albeit  'tis  they  that 
'slepen  al  the  nighte  with  open  eye. ' — Bring  me  or 
send  me  a  well-brewed  posset  and  the  goodwife's 
cakes.  I'll  drink  to  my  intention  !  By  the  Rood,  " 
he  continued  as  the  door  closed  on  the  retreating 
landlord,  "an'  I'd  not  a  use  for  thee  and  thy  roof 
of  'good  repute',  I'd  soon  silence  thee,  Simon  Bolt ! 

Wait — till  Gregory  Bellingham  be  free See  if 

he  give  not  each  knavish  driveller  amongst  ye  some- 
thing to  twist  his  ugly  visage  !" 

But  the  old  slave  woman  who  brought  the  water 
met  a  look  of  gentle  condescension,  and  shuffled 
away  rejoicing,  her  hand  clasped  tight,  like  the  hot 
palm  of  a  child,  upon  the  coin  he  gave. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

MUDDY    RIVER    WOODS:      A    MESSENGER    AND    A 
MEETING 

AT  the  sign  of  the  Orange  Tree  the  windows 
of  the  "best  chamber"  were  closed  and  no 
lodger  was  within. 

Where  earlier  in  the  day  Sir  Humphrey's  letters 
had  been  written  in  the  midst  of  unseemly  con- 
fusion the  softened  light  found  now  a  decorous 
room.  Goodwife  Bolt  had  begged  the  key  and  set 
the  place  in  order,  folding  the  taffety  and  brocade 
with  careful  fingers,  and  driving  out  the  flies  with 
strips  of  paper  nailed  upon  long  sticks. 

Then  she  had  shut  the  windows  and  sped  apace 
for  sympathy  to  Mistress  Munch  across  the  way. 

Roger,  pausing  upon  his  mother's  errand  to  the 
Dame,  delivered  it  where  both  were  seated  in  the 
close  air  of  the  shuttered  house.  Beulah  came 
forth  with  him  as  he  went.  Her  eyes  were  restless 
and  underneath  the  primness  of  her  speech  a  hurry- 
ing eagerness  was  plain,  as  if  she  cast  about  her  for 
some  expedient. 

She  reached  the  gate  first  and  rested  her  bare 
round  arms  upon  the  topmost  rail,  talking  as  if  un- 
conscious that  she  blocked  the  way.  Roger's  look 
went  beyond  her  and  she  knew  where  it  stopped — 
upon  the  house  of  the  Widow  Pullen  in  which  for  a 
brief  space  the  Maid  had  dwelt.  The  colour  in  Beu- 
lah's  cheeks,  faint  as  the  flush  of  a  pale  sweet  pea, 
grew  more  pink. 

236 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  237 

Shubael  had  stolen  after  and  Roger  lifted  him 
and  set  him  in  the  circle  of  his  arm,  upon  the  fence. 
The  child  looked  shyly  upward,  half  fearful  of  a 
sudden  tumble,  some  rough  joke  to  which  he  was 
inured,  but  Roger  held  him  fast.  And  the  boy, 
viewing  the  world  from  unaccustomed  altitudes, 
fell  solemn  in  surprised  content. 

"  'Tis  said  the  Nipmucks  be  out — northward, " 
volunteered  the  girl,  drawing  Roger's  attention 
more  surely  to  herself. 

The  sentence  had  greater  effect  than  she  had 
meant.  He  involuntarily  tightened  the  arm  that 
held  Shubael  and  the  little  fellow  leaned  upon  the 
man's  shoulder  with  round  eyes  fixed  peacefully 
on  the  sky. 

"To  northward,  did  you  say?" 

"Yes;  upon  the  Merrimac,  I  think.  At  least 
there  is  a  rumour " 

"  Whence  came  it  to  you  ? " 

"Nausnummin,  the  Indian  preacher,  told  it." 

The  statement  had  no  foundation  save  in  a  chance 
word  of  Christopher  Munch,  who  saw  ever  upon  the 
darker  side,  but  Beulah  made  good  speed  to  sup- 
port it,  pleased  with  the  interest  it  roused. 

While  they  still  spoke  of  Indians,  Shubael  put 
out  his  hand,  feeling  for  the  arm  that  held  him,  and 
begged. 

"  Stay  here:  stay  here  a  little  while,  "  he  pleaded. 

"Yes,  Roger,  come  in  and  sit,  "  Beulah  glanced 
up  in  coquettish  appeal. 

' '  I  cannot — not  this  evening,  I  am  in  some 
haste — thank  you, "  Roger  answered,  setting  the 
child  upon  the  ground. 


238  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

She  released  the  gate,  moving  suddenly  from  the 
path. 

They  shook  hands  in  the  fashion  of  the  town  and 
the  young  man  raised  his  hat  as  the  gate  swung  after 
him. 

"Good-night,  Beulah, "  he  said  pleasantly  and 
was  gone. 

The  girl's  colour  darkened  to  scarlet.  Her  eyes 
showed  too  roundly  prominent,  and  the  thin  lips 
that  could  curve  and  tremble  with  weak  ease  in  a 
play  of  sentiment,  drew  to  a  tight  line. 

The  unconscious  gentleness  of  the  arm  about  the 
boy  (privileged  to  cling  where  her  imaginings  had 
often  dreamed  herself)  had  gotten  a  cruel  hold  of 
her.  In  a  trice,  too,  she  had  unriddled  his  interest 
in  the  Indians. 

"Whither,  Shubael,  went  Sir  John  Winchcombe 
and  his  family?"  she  asked. 

"To  Andover,  Mam  said,"  answered  the  lad, 
"  Mistress  Armitage  hath  promised  me  a  letter.  " 

"I  shall  tear  it  if  it  come,"  his  sister  snapped, 
the  small  teeth  barely  showing  behind  the  tightened 
lips. 

Roger  heard  the  child's  crying,  as  he  took  his  way 
across  the  Common.  He  had  seized  the  excuse  of 
the  errand  to  escape  from  confining  walls.  Despite 
his  best  efforts,  a  coldness  daily  more  cold  remained 
between  him  and  his  home.  His  father  stern,  his 
mother  wistful,  with  the  look  of  watchers  who  fear 
disaster,  a  look  more  dreadful  than  reproach. 

The  pain  of  it,  the  pressure  of  suspicion,  was  in- 
tolerable. Yet  his  grief  at  the  estrangement  was 
pricked  with  thorns  of  sharp  compunction  as  he 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  239 

realized  that  from  it  he  had  a  refuge,  a  warmth  no 
coldness  chilled,  itself  a  pain  more  blessed  than  all 
peace. 

Out  of  the  atmosphere  of  strain  where  the  very 
tension  of  his  own  mood  made  silence  under  his 
father's  reproofs  increasingly  in  danger  of  furious 
break,  he  escaped  whenever  it  was  possible.  More 
than  one  night  had  found  him  wandering  through 
all  its  hours — to  come  back  with  the  dawn,  the  old 
sense  of  guilt  dogging  at  his  heels. 

The  twilight  lingered  late.  The  August  moon 
was  low  in  the  east  before  the  afterglow  was  faded. 
Few  people  were  in  Tra-mountain  street,  and  those 
that  were  abroad  hastened  about  their  business  as 
if  conscious  of  the  hour. 

Frog  lane  was  empty.  The  chorus  from  the 
pond  upon  the  Common  croaked  in  inspiriting 
fugue,  the  patriarchs  booming  beneath  the  shriller 
rejoicings  of  the  young.  Soft  breathings  in  the 
bushes  told  where  a  strayed  cow  still  browsed  and 
wandered.  Roger  moved  onward  without  pause, 
far  out  beyond  the  settled  borders  of  his  home,  into 
woods  through  which  the  road  wound  roughly  to- 
ward the  village  of  Muddy  River. 

Shadows  lay  thickly  in  the  way.  When  at  last 
he  halted  and  took  count  of  his  position  he  was  deep 
within  the  forest.  After  he  turned,  his  step  grew 
slower  and  the  homeward  path  was  travelled  with 
less  speed. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  mile  retraversed  he  came 
to  a  pause,  thinking  he  heard  voices.  He  stood  in 
the  darkness  made  by  a  great  maple  that  roofed 
the  rude  way  with  a  compact  mass  of  straight- 


240          THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

grown  boughs.  His  light  tread  had  made  no  sound 
upon  the  bed  of  needles  underneath. 

At  the  instant  of  his  pause  two  figures  silhouetted 
themselves  upon  a  strip  of  sky  far  down  the  path. 
They  also  were  at  a  stand  and  one  was  beckoning 
the  other  after  it  into  heavier  shade.  Roger's 
sight,  keen  and  used  now  to  the  dusk,  saw  that  the 
one  who  had  bethought  him  of  the  shadow  was  an 
Indian. 

He  seemed  to  be  speaking  and  at  his  words  the 
other  turned  abruptly  to  look  in  Roger's  direction 
then  faced  quickly  about,  taking  the  way  town- 
ward.  If  they  desired  to  be  secret,  the  red  man 
might  have  warned  him  of  Roger's  passing  and  of  a 
probable  return.  In  the  movement  of  departure 
the  Indian  had  held  out  something  which  the  other 
had  seized  in  going,  thrusting  it  apparently  into 
his  doublet. 

Roger  would  have  moved  on  but  the  savage 
came  directly  toward  him,  and  he  stepped  instead 
upon  the  other  side  of  the  great  maple  that  inter- 
posed its  trunk  between  them  as  the  Indian  passed. 
A  gleam  of  light  dropping  through  a  broken  space 
in  the  boughs  touched  the  face ;  it  was  not  a  face 
from  one  of  the  friendly  tribes,  but  wore  the  look 
of  the  French  Indians  of  the  North. 

Roused  from  himself  to  quick  conjecture,  he 
followed,  still  slowly,  the  homeward  path  till  in 
a  narrow  dwindling  of  the  way  his  eye  was  caught 
by  a  glint  of  white  at  his  feet.  It  might  have  been 
bark  from  the  white  birch  but  he  stooped  to  it  and 
saw  that  it  was  a  letter. 

"Le  Sieur  de  Wildglass. "      The    address   was 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  241 

plain  even  in  the  moonstone  pallor  of  the  day's  last 
look. 

A  French  letter  and  for  Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass. 
His  first  conjecture  as  to  the  identity  of  that  second 
figure  was  then  correct ! 

Sir  Humphrey  stopped  with  startled  promptness 
as  Roger  called.  At  sight  of  the  letter  his  hand 
went  involuntarily  toward  the  pocket  of  his  doublet. 
The  gesture  was  checked  midway  and  converted  at 
once  into  a  movement  to  pluck  from  his  coat  a  bit 
of  brambly  leaf. 

"Ah — 'tis  the  valiant  Captain  !"  His  look  ban- 
tering, derisory,  settled  upon  Roger  as  he  flicked 
the  leaf  daintily  from  his  fingers.  "Art  starting 
for  Quebec  or  art  already  returning?" 

"  I  but  follow  you,  Sir  Humphrey  !  And  I  bring 
you  word  of  the  North  and  I  mistake  not. "  He 
held  out  the  letter,  suddenly  smiling,  "  'Twere  a 
happy  chance  had  it  some  news  of  that  French  gold 
we  spoke  of!" 

"Aye,  most  happy!"  The  cavalier  thrust  the 
letter  securely  within  his  pocket,  but  first  examined 
it  with  insulting  care,  making  certain  that  the  seal 
was  unbroken. 

"I  think  none  can  have  seen  it  but  myself," 
Roger  reassured  him  drily. 

"Where  found  you  the  billet ? " 

"A  little  back  upon  the  path.  " 

"A  woman's  secret,  Captain — and  so  to  be 
guarded,  "  explained  Sir  Humphrey  lightly.  "Not 
over  interesting  or  'twould  have  met  my  eyes  ere 
this.  I  have  a  weak  aversion  for  the  reading  of 
reproachful  epithet !" 


242  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Roger  heard  the  apocryphal  tale  unabashed, 
watching  the  elusive  play  of  expression,  as  the 
man  resumed  his  way,  neither  inviting  nor  dis- 
couraging companionship. 

There  was  no  branching  of  the  path  and  it  was 
already  too  dark  to  seek  the  isolation  of  the  thicket. 
Roger  swung  again  into  the  step  with  which  he  had 
overtaken  the  other  and  would  have  passed  him 
but  Sir  Humphrey  slightly  quickened  his  pace. 

"  If  thou'rt  a  Puritan,  my  good  Captain  Verring, 
then  King  Charles  never  lost  his  head, "  he  sighed 
irrelevantly.  "Thou'rt  a  lusus  naturae,  being  a 
Puritan  and  yet  no  Puritan.  " 

"And  you're  no  riddle  easy  for  the  solving," 
Roger  retorted,  "being  Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass 
and  yet — fond  of  the  simple  dalliance  of  the  woods ; 
'tis  not  expected  of  a  courtier.  " 

"Truth,  thou  hast  it,  young  Sir — the  strolling  at 
twilight  with  solitude  or  country  folk  for  sole  com- 
panions would  suit  ill  the  rout  of  fashion  !  'Twould 
shock  them  dolefully  in  London  to  know  'twas 
tamely  safe  to  wander  here  at  even  in  the  woods. 
Bears  and  wolves  are  the  least  foes  they  conjure 
up!" 

"They  are  the  least  we  encounter. "  Roger  had 
fallen  into  the  other's  step,  slackening  his  own. 

Sir  Humphrey  gave  him  a  swift  side  glance. 

"Better  wolves,  I  venture,  than  Indians?  Yet 
surely  the  salvages  come  not  so  near  Boston  as  to 
give  uneasiness  to  our  Captain!"  The  apparent 
astonishment  of  the  jeer  moved  Roger  to  admir- 
ation. 

."  Not  often,  not  them  that  are  hostile, "  he  an- 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  243 

swered  indifferently,  fancying  he  detected  relief  in 
his  companion's  voice  as  Sir  Humphrey  went  on. 

"And  how  about  the  road  to  this  village  of  And- 
over?  I  am  setting  out  thither  on  the  morrow — 
with  no  better  convoy  than  two  slaves  for  the  fields 
and  one  Bozoun  Plimly,  a  tim'rous  provincial  who 
recommendeth  me  ammunition  in  plenty.  " 

"  I  think  you  will  be  safe.  "  Roger  spoke  with  an 
air  of  encouragement  as  ingenuous  as  the  cavalier's. 
"I  but  hope  you  will  be  able  to  defend  poor  Plimly 
as  well. " 

Again  the  side  glance  sought  his  face  cunningly. 
Bozoun  Plimly  was  known  as  of  the  doughty 
fighters. 

"Hast  a  pretty  wit,  my  Captain.  Art  dolefully 
wasted  on  this  pious  Boston.  Wouldst  send  a 
message  to  Mistress  Armitage?  I  bear  a  sheaf 
from  another  youth  called  Munch.  " 

"I  would  not  so  burden  you.  His  must  be 
heavy,"  Roger  returned  calmly.  "Keep  your  eye 
upon  the  branches  above  the  path.  Now  and  then 
they  bear  a  wildcat. " 

Sir  Humphrey  paused,  casting  a  look  upward 
into  the  dusk  of  the  boughs,  then  moved  again 
nonchalantly  forward. 

"  I  were  safer  trusting  to  eyes  wilderness- trained. 
Darkness  is  to  me  as  daylight  to  the  owl.  An'  there 
were  no  catamounts  what  a  place  for  a  stroll  with 
the  damosel  chosen  of  the  heart ! " 

He  hummed  a  stanza  from  a  French  chanson  in  a 
happy  abandonment  to  the  hour.  His  voice,  sub- 
dued, dipped  and  soared  mellifluously,  and  his  next 
words  held  a  double  sting. 


244  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"  I  wonder  if  there  be  catamounts  in  Andover !" 

"  'Tis  a  poor  place  for  twilight  strolling  and  not 
safe  even  in  the  day.  The  eyes  of  the  Pequots  are 
not  owl-like. "  Roger's  tones  were  matter-of-fact 
and  full  of  warning.  The  stab  of  the  man's  words 
was  deep,  but  it  should  bleed  inwardly.  Yet  the 
slash  of  knives  must  hurt  and  the  leap  of  flames 
sear  and  burn.  Sir  Humphrey  was  content.  He 
was  playing  but  lightly  the  prelude  of  his  plot.  If 
its  later  complications  had  place  for  the  suppres- 
sion of  this  ubiquitous  Captain  of  militia  so  much 
the  better. 

Meantime  the  two  paced  leisurely  on  in  the 
cloistral  gloom  of  oak  and  maple,  beech  and  pine; 
and  the  soft  cheeping  of  birds,  settled  drowsily  to 
rest,  broke  peacefully  upon  the  early  night.  The 
almost  vanished  light  sent  dim  lines  of  moony  radi- 
ance across  the  path  and  the  wind,  rising,  moved 
slow  and  stately  among  the  leaves  that  drew  rus- 
tling aside  before  its  coming. 

Its  breath  warmed  and  stirred  the  blood  more 
mightily  than  the  sting  of  cold.  The  odours  of  all 
full-growing  wild  things  were  in  it,  the  pungent 
herbs,  the  sassafras  and  sweet  brier,  perfumes  vital 
of  New  England  that  tells  its  heart  out  in  the  sum- 
mer woods  alive  and  thrilling  to  their  last  wee  leaf ; 
never  lying  dully  to  stretch  and  yawn  within  the 
heat ;  strong  with  vigour  unrelaxed — interpretation 
of  joy  and  pain  and  aspiration  compassing  the 
lives  that  move  within  its  dim  enchantment. 

Wherever  a  clearing  broke  in  upon  the  way,  pale 
armies  of  the  wild  rose  trooped  to  meet  them,  a 
wilderness  of  bud  and  blossom  exhaling  to  the  night 


245 


the  very  keenness  of  that  pang  that  worked,  thorn- 
like,  deeper  and  deeper  into  Roger's  heart  as  he 
thought  of  Andover  and  this  knight  of  the  Court, 
full-armed  of  graces,  modulating  his  soft  inflections 
for  another  ear. 

"  Tis  extravagantly  lovely!  A  wonderful  cli- 
mate, this  New  England,  with  more  passion  than 
the  tropics  for  all  its  devilish  changes. "  Sir 
Humphrey  filled  his  lungs  with  a  long  soft  inhala- 
tion. "  But  the  oracles  be  dumb — you  never  see  it, 
never  feel  it,  you  clod-hopping  Puritans ! 

'  How  sweet  the  oil — ta-rum-ta-ra, 

On  Aaron's  beard  did  go, 
And  on  his  raiment  down  did  run 

His  garment's  hem  unto.' 

'Tis  all  there  is  of  loveliness  for  you,  a  scurvily 
done  doggerel  to  drone  through  the  nose !  'Tis  a 
climate  to  make  poets " 

"Or  heroes,"  put  in  Roger. 

"And  you  make  no  more  of  it,"  the  cavalier 
went  on,  "than  the  dullest  oafs  ever  toiled  at  a 
dung  heap " 

"Finds  one  then  in  London  true  love  of  woods 
and  fields?" 

"  London  !  One  finds  men — men  and  women — 

in  London!  Ah "  Sir  Humphrey  broke  out 

impatiently — "when  shall  I  be  done  with  this 
commerce  with  louts  and  fools !  But  patience — 
men  who  seek  a  treasure  must  have  patience — eh, 
Captain?" 

"An  assurance  of  success  is  a  great  strengthener 
of  patience,"  Roger  answered  quietly.  "An  un- 


246  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

rewarded  patience — after  such  uncongenial  straits 
— were  added  soreness  to  the  spirit ! " 

"'Assurance'!"  A  laugh  malicious,  full  of 
amusement,  bubbled  up  from  Sir  Humphrey's 
throat.  "  Faith  then — 'tis  not  for  assurance  I'm 
lacking  !  Our  ways  part  here.  Adieu,  my  valiant 
Captain.  I  go — to  dream  of  Andover.  "  His  three- 
cornered  hat  was  swung  gracefully  into  the  air  and 
clapped  over  his  heart  as  he  bowed  mockingly  low, 
and  the  laugh  still  sounded  between  his  lips  as  he 
turned  aside  into  the  dark. 

Roger  did  not  hasten.  Unconscious  dread  of  the 
home-coming,  absorption  in  his  jealous  fears, 
dragged  upon  his  going. 

Beneath  the  current  of  emotion  his  mind  was 
working  in  deep-sea  ways  to  solve  the  mystery  of 
Sir  Humphrey's  presence  in  Boston.  Had  he  come 
in  the  first  instance  intent  to  capture  the  Little 
Maid  ?  But  she  herself  had  said  the  man  had  been 
earlier  unknown  to  them.  A  spy  !  It  was  the  last 
depth  for  a  gentleman,  even  an  adventurer  !  And 
yet  who  else  held  clandestine  meetings  with  hos- 
tile Indians  for  traffic  in  the  letters  of  the  French  ? 

Thought  contended  with  feeling  till  the  two 
merged  in  a  single  purpose.  Was  not  here  a  means 
to  unmask  the  fellow?  The  energy  of  his  patriot- 
ism reinforced  the  jealous  torment. 

Would  the  suffering  have  been  worse  had  the  man 
been  worthy  ?  He  stopped,  grappled  by  the  fierce- 
ness of  the  thought.  Action,  combat  with  evil, 
would  have  its  blessing  in  relief,  but  the  fear,  fear 
for  her  he  loved,  must  now  be  greater. 

He  had  paused  at  his  own  door,  and  he  looked 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  247 

about  him  with  the  watchful  eyes  of  hunters  or  of 
pioneers,  and  while  he  looked  a  form  took  shape 
among  the  shadows,  moving  cautiously  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  Cross  street. 

Did  the  man  heed  him  enough  to  follow?  Or 
was  his  contempt  unfeigned?  Masked  for  all  the 
world  beside,  why  did  he  show  his  true  face,  evil, 
malicious, alone  to  the  one  who  was  most  his  enemy  ? 
There  was  a  spur  in  the  memory  of  that  smiling 
indifference  that  mocked  at  defeat,  annoyance 
even,  from  a  source  so  insignificant. 

He  threw  open  the  door  and  mounted  to  his 
room.  Lighting  a  candle,  he  set  it,  flaring,  upon  a 
table,  and  standing  between  it  and  the  windows 
took  off  his  coat,  unwound  his  cravat,  then  half 
drew  the  shutters  and  after  a  pause,  extinguished 
the  light. 

In  the  darkness  he  dressed  again  and  sat  down 
behind  one  of  the  half-closed  shutters,  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  Old  Way  and  the  portion  of  Cross  street 
the  window  commanded.  Twice  a  figure  seemed 
to  stir  in  the  lane.  After  an  hour  it  came  no 
more. 

At  midnight  Roger  descended  to  the  room  below. 
He  stepped  with  care  but  not  stealthily,  despising 
too  great  caution,  and  as  his  hand  was  on  the  latch, 
his  mother's  door  opened  noiselessly  on  its  hinges 
and,  wound  in  soft  gray,  she  slipped  across  the 
suddenly  moonlit  space  to  his  side. 

"  Roger.  "  There  was  all  the  appeal  of  a  grieving 
child  in  the  broken  weariness  of  the  voice.  She 
looked  frail  in  the  wan  light  and  pinched  with  wake- 
ful miseries. 


248  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Roger  clasped  her  with  a  quick  tenderness  of  re- 
morse, laying  his  hand  upon  her  temple  that  beat 
feverishly  against  his  palm. 

'  'Tis  nothing  wrong,  Mother.  I  go  secretly  to 
the  Governor  to  warn  him  of  a  spy. " 

"  'Twas  not  that  drove  thee  forth — from  thy 
home.  My  son — I  cannot  let  her  take  thee  from 
me!  Canst  thou  not  give  her  up?" 

She  felt  the  start  and  throb  the  touch  wakened. 
There  was  a  moment's  waiting. 

"None  would  separate  thee  and  me — none 
could,"  he  answered  painfully. 

"Thou  canst  not  give  her  up?  O  Roger,  she 
comes  of  evil  people " 

He  released  her  sharply — then  clasped  her  closer. 

"No — no, "  he  said,  and  bending  leaned  his  head 
for  an  instant  upon  hers. 

She  slipped  gently  away,  knowing  the  moment 
passed  when  either  could  bear  without  embarrass- 
ment the  rare  caress. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A  MIDNIGHT  CONFERENCE 

ROGER  issued  by  a  side  door  seldom  used. 
The  rising  moon  had  lighted  the  streets, 
but  this  side  of  the  house  was  still  in 
shadow  and  under  the  orchard  .trees  it  was  dark. 
The  wet  grass  tangled  itself  about  his  feet  and  the 
low  branches  brushed  roughly  against  him.  He 
went  at  first  watchfully,  with  care  to  remain  hid- 
den ;  then  more  boldly,  making  his  way  from  orch- 
ard to  orchard. 

He  crossed  beyond  the  church  when  the  moon 
was  under  a  cloud,  and  so  by  street  and  garden  to 
the  end  of  Green  lane  and  to  the  Governor's  man- 
sion. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  way  there  seemed  to 
hide  and  wait  a  host  of  lurking  shades.  For  bet- 
ter precaution,  he  returned  on  his  steps,  not  once 
venturing  into  the  light,  and  hesitated  a  moment 
on  the  porch  at  the  back  of  the  house.  He  had 
been  certain  of  a  figure  ensconced  opposite  the  en- 
trance in  the  shelter  of  the  elms. 

How  to  proceed  further,  he  was  in  doubt.  The 
thought  of  giving  up  his  design  crossed  his  mind. 
But  to  see  the  Governor  without  delay  and  without 
betraying  to  the  spy  that  the  interview  had  taken 
place  was  imperative.  Danger  might  be  more 
imminent  than  anyone  could  have  suspected. 
The  French  might  be  arming  for  an  attack,  might 

249 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 


be  penetrating  the  wilderness  toward  the  very  en- 
trance of  Boston  Neck.  The  Indians  might  be 
engaged  upon  some  devilish  plot  for  whose  pre- 
vention not  an  hour  must  be  wasted. 

To  wake  the  house  with  loud  outcries  was  mani- 
festly to  warn  the  neighbourhood  of  his  business. 
The  windows  of  Sir  William's  room  faced  the  open 
moonlit  spaces  and  the  prowling  watcher  seen  or 
imagined  by  the  pasture  wall. 

Spencer  Phips,  the  Governor's  nephew,  was  from 
home.  The  servants  slept  above  in  the  garret 
story,  save  the  slave  Debby,  who  was  ever  near  her 
mistress.  Lady  Phips  had  a  quiet,  forceful  way  of 
acting  for  herself  which  appealed  to  a  kindred 
quality  in  Roger's  own  nature,  and  all  that  she  did 
impressed  him  with  a  sense  of  fitness  and  of  value. 
As  he  recalled  the  visits  he  had  made  in  the  "faire 
brick  house  of  Green  lane"  there  returned  to  him 
memory  of  a  time  when  she  had  entered  from  the  far 
end  of  the  porch  on  which  he  stood  and  called 
"  Debby  —  Debby  !  Art  thou  in  thy  room  ?  "  And 
the  black  woman  had  emerged  from  a  door  above 
their  heads  and  descended  the  "back-stair,"  a 
kindly,  sad-eyed  old  creature  who  had  tried  to  kill 
herself  when  first  she  appeared  in  Boston,  and  had 
been  saved  from  a  public  whipping  for  the  offence 
by  the  girl  who  was  to  be  Sir  William's  wife. 

The  flash  of  the  recollection  showed  him  his  way. 
He  was  standing  by  the  window  where  he  had  told 
the  Little  Maid  the  story  of  her  rescue.  Now  he 
laid  his  palm  with  a  close  and  gentle  touch  upon 
the  sill,  and  moved  away,  shocked  from  reminis- 
cence to  anxious  forethought  by  anxiety  for  her, 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  251 

the  fear  that  had  assailed  him  at  sight  of  the  Indian 
in  the  woods. 

He  picked  up  a  handful  of  gravel  from  the  path 
and  would  have  thrown  it,  but  paused  in  time, 
dropped  it  upon  the  grass,  and  approached  a  trellis 
beneath  the  window  he  sought.  He  smiled  a  little 
grimly  to  himself  as  he  climbed.  The  Governor 
was  quick  with  hand  or  pistol !  Should  his  bur- 
glarious plans  miscarry 

He  had  small  time  for  speculation.  The  trellis 
was  strong  and  he  ascended  sailor-like  and  swift 
among  the  late  roses.  The  thorns  pierced  smartly, 
lusty  defenders  of  the  flowers  that  crushed  satiny 
and  sweet  across  his  lips. 

The  window  above  was  open.  Regular  breath- 
ing came  from  the  farther  side  of  the  room. 

"  Debby  ! "  he  called  softly,  his  head  quite  within 
the  curtains.  "  Debby  ! " 

Someone  stirred  but  the  breathing  was  as  before. 
He  put  out  his  hand  and  tapped  sharply  on  a  stool 
it  encountered. 

"Debby!" 

"Yeh-es,  Miss  Mary."  The  voice  was  confused 
and  dull. 

"Debby!" 

"  Be  yo'  sick,  Miss  Mary  ? "  The  negress  was  lift- 
ing herself  on  the  bed ;  it  creaked  as  she  turned. 

"Debby — Debby — Wake  up!  Don't  be  afraid. 
'Tis  I — Roger  Verring.  I  must  see  the  Governor. 
Do  you  hear,  Debby  ?  Don't  let  anyone  know  that 
I'm  come,  but  call  the  Governor.  Tell  him  not  to 
light  his  candle.  'Tis  possible  someone  may  be 
watching. "  Roger  had  leaned  far  into  the  window 


252  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

and  spoke  in  his  natural  voice,  lowered  but  distinct. 
"  I  have  something  to  tell  the  Governor.  Wilt  thou 
rouse  him,  Debby,  and  say  to  Lady  Phips  'tis  noth- 
ing to  give  her  alarm.  " 

Roger  had  feared  a  shriek  when  his  voice  should 
cease  but  Debby  was  not  a  common  woman.  Her 
tone  when  she  answered  was  full  of  dignity  and 
sense. 

"  Yo'  stay  quiet  right  where  yo'  be  till  I  get  into 
my  clo'es,  Cap'n  Verrin'.  Then  yo'  can  come  in 
the  winder  an'  there'll  be  no  creakin'  doors  down- 
stair. " 

She  was  fumbling  in  a  press  at  the  head  of  the 
bed.  There  had  been  a  nervous  apprehension  in 
her  manner  that  made  Roger  wonder  after  she  dis- 
appeared, whether  or  no  she  had  really  recognized 
him.  He  heard  a  muffled  sound  like  a  surprised 
snort  from  the  far  end  of  the  hall  and,  after  a  pause, 
a  tread  not  so  noiseless  as  Debby 's. 

"A  pest  upon  thee,  lad,  dragging  a  man  from  his 
bed  at  an  hour  like  this!"  The  voice  was  humor- 
ously pitched  though  still  clogged  with  sleep.  "  Art 
thou  bewitched  to " 

"Sh-sh!"  whispered  Debby  warningly.  "Yo' 
speakin'  too  loud,  Mister  William.  " 

"Go  thou  and  stay  with  thy  mistress,  Debby; 
she  heareth  the  Pequods  come  for  her  scalp  and 
thinketh  the  house  afire  !  Sit  thee  down,  lad — and 
out  with  it. " 

They  were  in  the  great  upper  hall.  The  moon- 
light streamed  toward  them  from  the  front  and 
gave  a  dim  brightness  even  to  the  broad  window 
seat  where  they  were. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  253 

Roger  spoke  quickly. 

"  M-m-m — had  suspicion  of  it,  lad.  "  The  night- 
capped  head  nodded  with  emphasis.  "I  like  not 
the  man.  Has't  ever  come  to  thee  the  name  is  not 
his  own?  Wildglass?  I  never  heard  it  in  the 
court  of  James  nor  is  it  familiar  in  that  of  King 
William.  Yet  this  fellow — 'tis  plain — hath  been 
much  about  King  James.  He  gave  me  that  by  an 
allusion  whose  key  I  had  from  the  Duke  of  Albe- 
marle.  'Twas  a  dissolute  set  of  rascals  were  in  that 
story.  'Twas  in  my  mind  to  write  his  Grace  and 
ask  which  of  the  company  had  this  fellow's  pres- 
ence. But  I  was  ever  a  procrastinator  with  the 
pen.  'Tis  a  handsome  rogue  and — I  like  less  than 
all  his  way  with  the  Little  Maid.  When  sails  the 
next  packet? " 

"The  Serving  Martha  goeth  out  on  the  morning 
tide. " 

The  Governor  waited  a  moment,  thinking. 

"Who  commandeth  the  ship?" 

"Maccartey. " 

The  Governor  struck  his  hand  joyously  upon  his 
knee. 

"  Providence  is  for  us,  lad  !  Comes  Maccartey  to 
the  counting-house  in  the  morning?" 

"  I  go  to  him  to  give  my  father's  instructions.  " 

"Take  thou  mine  and  this  ring.  'Twill  serve 
with  his  Grace  better  than  letters.  We'll  know 
who  is  this  Wildglass !  Let  him  into  the  whole 
matter. " 

A  half-hour  more  and  Roger  had  descended  and 
was  returning  by  the  orchards  as  he  had  come,  in 
his  thoughts  the  cheer  of  the  Governor's  warm 


254  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

grasp  mingling  with  the  poignancy  of  his  fears  for 
the  Governor's  Little  Maid. 

As  he  entered  his  own  home  the  tall  clock  covered 
the  sound  of  his  coming  with  its  full- toned  chime. 

Did  the  Maid  slumber — or  did  she  wake,  like 
him?  She  had  feared  the  "solitude."  And  Sir 
Humphrey  with  his  wit,  his  power  to  amuse,  how 
welcome  would  be  his  breaking  of  that  solitude ! 
What  charm  would  he  not  gain  from  contrast  with 
Sir  John  Winchcombe  and  the  wilds  ! 

Before  he  slept,  he  heard  the  clank  of  the  mill 
wheel  turning  in  the  opened  sluiceway.  The  miller 
had  begun  his  day. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

INDIAN    RIDGE 

ROGER  left  the  ferry  and  set  swiftly  forward 
upon  the  road,  a  road  where  ugly  stumps 
showed  aggressively  above  the  receding 
earth  and  the  ground  pine  and  shoots  of  oak  and 
maple  struggled  with  persistent  witch  grass  in  the 
half-cleared  trail. 

He  passed  lightly  over  obstructions  and  as  he 
went  seemed  to  himself  a  creature  of  the  forest. 
The  memory  of  the  ferry-way  was  with  him  and 
the  still  water,  heavy,  inert — dead  when  he  had 
seen  it  first,  thrilling  again  into  a  sentient  glory, 
fiery  in  the  rippling  shallows,  streaked  far  with 
shifting  marvels  of  glow  and  motion  in  the  deeper 
tides  where  life  renewed  itself  with  day. 

As  the  shore  gave  him  welcome,  little  by  little  the 
memory  released  its  hold  as  echoes  of  an  overture 
die  into  succeeding  scenes  and  the  green  wilderness 
took  him  to  itself.  Wild  things  scattered  shyly 
before  him,  or  peered  amazed  and  disconcerted 
from  the  covert,  but  he  did  not  lift  his  gun  from  his 
shoulder  nor  heed  them  save  in  the  vague  appre- 
hending that  showed  them  part  of  the  fleeting  pic- 
ture of  the  forest. 

And  yet  the  gun  was  his  excuse  for  idling  this  day 
away  from  counting  house  and  wharves,  the  launch- 
ing of  new  ventures  and  the  reckoning  up  of  old,  the 
smell  of  the  sluggish  docks  and  the  stale  reports  of 
argosies  and  pine  tree  shillings. 

255       • 


256  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"  I  shall  see  you,  perhaps,  when  we  return  in  the 
autumn,  "  she  had  said,  and  the  living  wretchedness 
of  the  summer  had  laid  hold  on  him  as  she  spoke. 

Since  the  hour  when  he  had  known  she  was  gone, 
when  he  had  found  the  house  dark,  shuttered,  deso- 
late under  the  June  sun,  Boston  had  become  a  place 
of  death  where  decay  was  in  the  air  and  men  moved 
as  ghosts  about  unending  tasks  of  idle  import.  The 
cavalier  had  been  gone  but  a  day,  yet  as  the  second 
night  had  waned  into  its  later  hours  and  Roger  had 
gone  quickly  forth  to  meet  vague  glintings  of  the 
coming  light,  it  had  seemed  no  shorter  than  an 
eternity  of  discontent.  Beneath  his  eyes  had  lain 
shadows  heavier  than  the  star-sprinkled  dusk  of 
morning. 

Not  once  had  he  said  to  himself,  even  in  the  mo- 
ment most  filled  with  the  purpose  of  his  desire,  "  I 
will  go  to  Andover,  "  but  now  he  kept  straight  upon 
the  way  without  wavering  or  parley. 

The  woods  sent  up  a  broad,  quavering  haze. 
Squirrels  scampered  among  the  branches.  When 
at  noon  he  threw  himself  beneath  a  pine  to  rest,  one 
came  leaping  downward  almost  to  his  head,  shrill 
voiced  and  chattering  to  warn  the  trespasser. 

Roger  lay  prone  upon  the  heat-breathing  earth 
and  the  waves  of  its  summer  madness  flowed 
through  him.  Here  in  the  far  heart  of  the  woods 
he  was  free.  Free  to  dream,  free  to  love  his 
dreaming ! 

But  rising  through  it  all,  chilling  and  embittering 
the  whole,  was  the  fear  of  his  own  joyance,  so  that 
he  went  on  no  longer  full  of  the  day's  blessedness, 
but  unseeing,  abstracted,  cut  deep  into  his  soul 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  257 

with  the  harrowing  torment  of  inquisitorial  pain. 

As  the  shadows  wheeled  on  their  retreat,  he 
paused  to  look  up  at  the  sun,  and  hastily  at  the 
compass  he  carried  in  his  pocket.  Then  he  struck 
from  the  trail  into  the  untracked  wilderness  and 
went  onward  with  hardly  less  speed,  crushing  aside 
or  trampling  the  obstacles  that  defied  him. 

The  journey  grew  increasingly  difficult  and  in  the 
lowlands  gnats  swarmed  from  stagnant  pools  and 
hung  cloud-wise  in  the  simmering  air.  The  snap- 
dragon, enmeshed  in  great  masses  of  gaudily  twink- 
ling bloom,  and  the  deep  brakes,  gave  signal  of  the 
ooze  from  which  they  sprung. 

The  Ridge  lay  snakelike  along  the  valley,  unread 
history  in  its  accumulations  of  glacial  stone.  From 
the  crest,  wooded  cleanly  with  pines  too  thick  for 
undergrowth,  Roger  looked  down  along  the  "  limpid 
Shawsheen"  and  in  the  fertile  intervale  his  eyes 
discovered  that  for  which  they  sought. 

Upon  a  mound  that  was  faintly  suggestive  of  a 
promontory,  being  set  in  a  bend  of  the  river,  was 
the  house.  It  was  roughly  built  of  squared  logs 
and  bore  an  insignificant  proportion  to  the  barns 
within  the  same  enclosure.  The  stockade  was  dia- 
mond shaped,  an  angle  to  the  turn  of  the  stream, 
with  two  gates  set  wide  open  and  facing,  one  upon 
the  river,  the  other  toward  the  Ridge.  Indian 
Ridge  the  settlers  had  named  the  place,  a  sinister 
suggestion  in  the  name. 

Fields  of  maize,  set  palely  in  the  darker  rim  of 
evergreens  and  maples,  were  on  the  farther  side. 
In  a  clearing  of  fallen  grain  a  figure,  that  might  have 
been  Bozoun  Plimly,  wielded  a  sickle. 


258  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Hidden  in  the  thick  undergrowth  at  the  foot  of 
the  Ridge  ran  a  path.  Roger  had  mounted  beyond 
the  spring  to  which  it  led,  and  his  eyes  did  not  find 
the  figure  till  the  glancing  shimmer  of  a  woman's 
dress  showed  among  the  bushes. 

The  spring  trickled  from  the  rude  channel  of 
wood  into  a  hollowed  log  where  a  horse  might  drink, 
and  was  spilled  in  all  directions  upon  moss  and 
stones,  leaving  an  iron-rusted  trail  wherever  its 
spreading  rills  found  way. 

"Let  me  fill  it  for  you. "  Roger  came  upon  her 
as  she  stooped,  speaking  before  he  was  fairly  beside 
her  lest  he  startle  her.  It  was  better  than  he  had 
dared  to  dream — to  find  her  so,  unaccompanied  by 
a  hateful  presence. 

"  You  meet  me  always  when  I  run  away  ! "  She 
had  said  no  word  of  welcome  but  laughter  rippled  in 
her  look.  "  I  but  came  to  have  the  woodland  to  my- 
self with  this  for  excuse.  "  She  held  up  her  pitcher 
and  waited  as  he  took  and  filled  it. 

"And  I — for  the  same  reason,  with  this  for  my 
excuse.  "  He  let  his  eyes  rest  an  instant  on  the  gun 
he  had  set  upright  against  a  yellow  birch  that  over- 
leaned  the  place. 

They  talked — merrily — as  they  climbed.  She 
breathed  faster  as  they  reached  the  top.  The  hill 
was  steep. 

Below  them  the  river  wimpled  in  and  out  among 
the  rushes,  and  waterlilies  drifted  in  the  lapping 
eddies,  pulling  softly  at  their  green  cables  as  they 
felt  the  motion  of  the  stream.  Above,  the  sky  was 
bluer  than  the  blue  of  Italy,  with  no  yellow  ochre 
behind  its  clarity  of  tint,  a  clean,  clear  blue,  not 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  259 

cold  like  blues  of  autumn,  but  warm,  fervid,  the 
very  dream  and  apotheosis  of  blue. 

Into  its  smoothly  hurrying  current  the  river  ab- 
sorbed the  glow,  the  intensity,  and  the  green  of  wil- 
lows and  alders,  the  green  of  birches,  and  the  dark 
shadow  of  the  pines  interpreted  'twixt  blue  and 
blue.  No  sound  but  the  wood  sounds,  no  stir  but 
the  thrill  of  the  warm  earth  and  happy  trees. 

She  had  given  him  to  drink  of  her  blue  crock  and 
it  rested  now  against  the  fallen  tree  on  which  she 
sat.  From  beside  it  she  had  pulled  the  leaf  of  a 
hepatica  and  touched  it  delicately  as  she  talked, 
her  eyes  lingering  on  it  in  a  gentle  ruth  of  their  own 
ravishing. 

Roger  lay  upon  the  slope,  head  upon  hand,  and 
his  gaze  questioned  her  mutely.  Had  she  been 
glad  to  see  him  ?  The  vivid  light  of  a  surprise  that 
was  not  all  sorrowful  had  surely  showed  itself  at 
sight  of  him. 

"  You  love  the  forest  ? "  Her  words  were  more  a 
statement  than  a  query,  and  came  without  relev- 
ance into  the  progress  of  their  talk.  "And  yet 
they  say  the  Puritans  have  no  love  for  nature ! 
You  are,  'tis  plain,  not  all  Puritan !" 

She  looked  down  at  him  with  the  look  that  is 
neither  smile  nor  earnest  but  holds  every  possibil- 
ity of  friendly  chat. 

"I  fear  I  am — too  little — Puritan  !"  He  shook 
his  head,  the  same  suggested  depth  and  shallows  in 
eyes  that  widened  as  they  met  her  own. 

"To  me,  the  birds,  all  animals — and  flowers  and 
trees — why  'tis  my  religion  to  love  them. "  She 
rippled  again  with  unvoiced  laughter.  "Think  you 
I  am  the  worse  for  loving — these?" 


26o  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

She  plucked  another  leaf  gently  and  laid  the  two 
side  by  side,  the  stems  in  her  caressing  fingers. 

Roger  flushed — a  madness  seizing  him.  The 
touch  upon  the  leaf  had  touched  at  the  same  in- 
stant the  centre  of  his  life,  and  the  whole  throbbing 
machinery  of  being  halted  with  sudden  jar. 

She  did  not  understand.  His  look  that  might 
have  told  too  much  was  on  the  leaves,  and  when  he 
spoke  she  had  read  in  the  flush  reproof,  as  she  found 
in  the  words  evasion. 

"Surely  not  the  worse, "  he  had  said.  "  Only — 
if  the  flowers  could  but  know  their  own  happiness — 
'twere  fitter. "  His  voice  was  not  steady. 

She  withdrew  coldly  into  herself. 

"  'Tis  a  poor,  merchant's  view  of  things  demands 
response  for  love, "  she  said  loftily. 

She  had  dropped  the  leaves  in  a  vexed  fashion 
and  he  laid  his  hand  upon  them.  Something  in  the 
gesture  at  once  impulsive  and  deliberate,  gentle  and 
determined,  disarmed  her.  One  could  but  like  the 
hand.  It  was  a  proper,  man's  hand,  but  with  a 
fineness  added. 

Roger  lifted  his  eyes,  his  clasp  still  on  the  leaves 
in  mute  possession. 

"I  am  but  clumsy.  'Tis  the  Puritan  whose 
tongue  so  stumbles  upon  uncouth  words.  But  we 
be  not  all  bargainers  and  miserly  by  nature.  My 
meaning  was  other  than  my  speech Sir  Hum- 
phrey Wildglass  would  not  so  have  offended!" 
The  last  had  uttered  itself  against  his  will. 

Her  colour  rose  as  she  heard,  but  her  answer  was 
full  of  the  laughter  that  gleamed  ever  across  the  sur- 
face of  this  summer  mood,  laughter,  could  Roger 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  261 

but  have  known,  she  had  well-nigh  forgotten  in  the 
uncompanioned  wilderness. 

"Neither  'offended' — nor  pleased!  One  could 
not  be  sure — if  'twas  said  for  compliment — that  it 
were  more  than  the  vain  practice  of  a  courtier  who 
fears  to  forget  his  graces  !  Oft  have  I  told  him  so  ! " 

The  acid  of  that  "oft"  bit  deep.  Roger  had 
gathered  the  leaves  up  absently  into  his  palm  and  a 
ray  of  sunlight  sifting  through  the  trees  brought 
out  the  wines  and  browns  streaked  in  their  heart- 
shaped  greenness  from  point  to  stem. 

"They  are  beautiful,  "  she  said  simply. 

She  bent  nearer,  her  eyes  on  the  sun-painted 
leaves,  yet  not  unmindful  of  the  power  and  depth 
of  expression  in  the  other  face  near  her  own.  "  Tell 
me,  "  she  asked,  "why  doth  any  one  think  it  wrong 
to  love  them?" 

He  lifted  his  gaze  from  the  leaves  to  her. 

"Were  I  to  say — it  would  repel  you,  and  you 
would  hold  the  thought  for  mine " 

"Try  me.  It  seemeth  all  so  petty,  this  turning 
from  the  dumb  things  and  from  the  flowers.  One 
would  suppose  'twas  the  Devil  created  us — and  all 
the  earth !" 

Roger  looked  at  her,  absorbing  her  presence. 
There  was  room  in  his  mood  for  her  alone.  And 
for  the  future  wherein  he  should — he  must — win 
her. 

But  she  waited  the  answer. 

"  These  things  that  are  of  my  father's  faith  I  have 
never  held  so  straitly  as  others,"  he  began.  "Yet 
because  my  father  is  the  best  man  I  ever  knew — 
and  my  mother "  He  paused. 


262  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"Your  mother All  the  world  must  love 

your  mother "  The  girl  spoke  with  a  sharp 

access  of  feeling.  "I  saw  her  at  Sir  William's. 
She  is  like — she  made  me  think  of  my  own " 

She  lifted  her  fingers  to  the  chain  about  her  neck 
and  drew  forth  a  small  oval  case.  Two  miniatures 
faced  each  other  within.  One  was  a  woman,  young, 
white-shouldered,  fair-haired.  No  common  artist 
could  have  caught  the  look,  half  humorous,  half 
scornful,  about  the  mouth,  the  frankness  untrans- 
latable of  the  eyes,  eyes  that  even  painted  might 
have  made  deceit  so  gazed  upon  to  waver. 

The  man  was  darker,  of  an  un-English  darkness, 
with  colourless  features,  abundant  in  expression, 
unusual  in  intellect,  high-bred  and  strong. 

The  two  sprang  to  life  vividly  in  the  woods. 
Roger  bent  over  them  reverently.  He  had  come 
nearer — very  near. 

"You — remember  them?"  His  tone  told  more 
than  he  could  have  given  in  words  more  fluent. 

The  girl  answered  him  eagerly.  With  an  im- 
pulse contrary  to  a  nature  wise,  honest,  beautiful  in 
strength,  but  locked  in  a  prison  of  reserve  on  which 
her  own  seeming  outspokenness  turned  the  key,  she 
told  him  of  her  home.  Not  as  he  would  have  told 
it  with  a  mastery  of  language  as  native  to  him  as  it 
was  unpractised,  but  in  simplest  sentences,  broken 
often,  and  coming  not  as  quarried  from  the  rock 
but  as  cut  from  live  flesh. 

He  said  little  now  but  let  his  look  follow  hers 
when  he  dared  keep  it  no  longer  on  her  lips,  and 
once  as  his  gaze  returned  from  the  wooded  knolls 
beyond  the  river  he  saw  a  figure  come  out  of  the 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  263 

water  gate  and  make  its  way  along  a  path  in  the  op- 
posite direction. 

With  the  prescience  of  those  who  watch  for  dan- 
ger, he  knew  it  for  Sir  Humphrey.  He  wondered 
whether  the  Maid  had  come  this  way  to  avoid  the 
cavalier,  and  his  heart  rose  at  the  hope. 

She  too  had  withdrawn  her  gaze  from  beyond 
the  river. 

"Your  own  childhood — 'twas  less  merry  it  may 
be — but  you  had  always  your  mother " 

"  Not  merry — scarcely  merry — but  not  sad " 

he  commenced. 

"Why  doth  the  Puritan  so  hate  the  light  and 
pleasant  ways?"  she  repeated.  "I  cannot  com- 
prehend— 'tis  ever  a  repulsive  thing  to  me  !"  She 
spoke  warmly  but  turned  to  him  with  instant  de- 
precation. '  'Tis  not  that  I  would  wrong  them 
who  see  not  the  world  as  I — but  the  little  children — 
'tis  a  cruelty  to  set  the  little  ones  thinking  on  the 
Devil  and  hating  innocent  flowers " 

"It  is  not  hate  they  would  teach  the  children  so 
much  as  forgetfulness,  "  answered  Roger.  "  I  would 
you  might  take  my  word  not  as  mine  but  only  as 
the  faith  of  them  I — respect ! " 

"Speak.  Trust  me,  "  she  begged.  "Of  the  Pu- 
ritan faith  I  know  nothing  save  from  its  enemies. " 

She  had  raised  her  head,  turning  her  face,  flower- 
wise,  to  the  sun.  The  green  boughs  swayed  almost 
imperceptibly  toward  her. 

All  trace  of  the  ascetic  was  gone  from  Roger's 
mood.  No  stern  denial  of  his  upsurging  joy  laid 
hands  upon  his  peace. 

"  We  may  not  love  the  flowers,  "  he  said,  his  voice 


264  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

troubled  with  happiness,  "because  loving  the  vis- 
ible, the  carnal,  we  take  but  earthly  pleasure,  for- 
getting the  Creator  of  all. " 

"  False  and  sophistical ! "  she  cried  out.  "  I  love 
ever  the  Creator  better  for  it  all.  What  needs  He 
of  our  love?  He  would  have  us  happy.  " 

"  'Tis  not  for  our  happiness  but  for  His  He  hath 
created  us — that  we  might  honour  Him.  " 

"Nay — and  of  all  vainglorious  thoughts!  Mat- 
ters then  our  opinion  so  much  to  God  ! "  She  spoke 
scornfully.  The  youthful  flush  answered  in  Roger's 
cheeks. 

"You  like  not  my  words — and  you — forget  I  was 
to  speak  for  others.  " 

"Nay,  I  will  remember;  I  will  not  again  inter- 
rupt." She  smiled.  "Tell  me  what  is't  your 
father  believeth.  He  hath  the  air  of  a  great  states- 
man. " 

"And  is  but  a  simple  ship  builder  and  merchant 
of  Boston  ! "  Roger  laughed,  reassured  in  the  smile. 
"He  loveth  Boston." 

She  waited  again  expectantly  as  he  halted. 

"That  which  he  believeth  is  not  to  be  easily  given 
justice  by  one  lukewarm — who  knoweth  not  what 
part  of  that  belief  may  be  his  own  by  any  strength 
of  his  own  apprehension.  Tis  something  like  this.  " 
Roger  hesitated  once  more.  The  soft  loveliness  of 
the  summer  afternoon  contradicted  what  he  was 
about  to  utter.  His  words  seemed  out  of  tune  with 
the  day,  seemed  to  push  him  farther  and  farther  out- 
side the  pale  of  that  paradise  of  companionship 
into  which  he  had  so  barely  entered.  He  drew  his 
hand  across  his  eyes  and  looked  up  at  her  as  if 


THE  COAST  OP  FREEDOM  265 

pleading.  A  warmth  generous  and  gracious  came 
into  her  face  in  answer. 

"Fear  not  I  shall  be  womanish  and  angry.  I 
would  know,  "  she  insisted. 

"The  very  substance  and  heart  of  it  all  is  that 
each  of  us  hath  a  relation — communion — with  Him 
who  hath  made  us,  that  none  may  interpose  between 
the  soul  of  each  and  his  Creator.  The  whole  of  life 
is  in  the  effort  to  get  nearer  to  Himself  and  by  ap- 
prehending a  divine  Will  perform  it  more  straitly. 
Night  and  day  'tis  of  this  he  thinks — the  Puritan. 
Long  nights  my  father  kneels  praying,  appealing, 
striving,  for  some  assurance  of  that  nearness,  which 
if  he  receive,  he  comes  among  us  transcendant  in 
the  beauty  of  his  conquest.  If  he  receive  it  not, 
the  suffering  of  his  face  'tis  death  to  see.  'Tis  a  life 
terrible  in  emotion — fierce  in  combat " 

"Combat?" 

"Yes:  with  the  Devil,  who  works  ever  more  in- 
sidiously to  make  a  breach  in  the  closeness  of  that 
bond — and  that  is  why  even  the  flowers  are  feared, 
feared  as  tempting  the  senses  to  pleasure  and  so  the 
soul  to  a  relaxing  of  vigilance,  to  a  dulness.  'Tis 
held  that  every  soul  longeth  from  birth  for  evil  and 
is  lost  forever  save  for  an  election  of  God  Himself. 
None  may  be  wholly  certain  of  that  election,  so  my 
father  believes;  still,  an'  he  but  strive  without  ceas- 
ing, lifting  up  his  thoughts  to  the  Highest,  resist- 
ing all  that  draweth  from  such  contemplation, 
there  may  come  to  him  moments  of  wondrous 
hope.  Mr.  Cotton  Mather  seeth  visions.  Often 
he  lies  all  night  upon  the  floor  confessing  his  sins 
and  wrestling  with  the  spirit.  Knowest  thou 
Judge  Se wall  ?" 


266  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  girl  seemed  unconscious  of  his  slip  upon  the 
thou. 

"  Of  a  truth,  "  she  answered  earnestly.  "  A  good 
man  by  his  look, — plump  and  portly.  He  hateth 
periwigs!"  Their  eyes  met  in  a  mutual  twinkle 
that  broke  gratefully  the  soberness  of  their  speech. 
The  Maid's  look  dwelt  a  little  abstractedly  on  the 
soft  bronzed  masses  of  Roger's  hair.  "What  of 
him  ? "  she  asked. 

'  'Tis  his  custom  whenever  he  be  troubled  or 
weighted  with  some  anxiety  to  close  the  blinds  of 
his  upper  room  and  there  to  fast  and  pray  a  day — 
two  days — till  his  soul  be  at  rest.  He  liveth  not  so 
strenuously  as  my  father,  being  of  a  more  comfort- 
able build  in  all  ways,  but  to  him,  too,  there  are  no 
realities  so  great  as  the  realities  of  the  spirit.  " 

"And  thy  mother?"  The  gentle  possessive 
came  unaware  from  the  girl's  lips  as  it  had  from 
Roger's.  An  instant  brought  knowledge  and  she 
retreated,  taking  fright  at  her  own  kindness. 

Roger  dared  not  look  at  her,  so  glowing,  so  deep, 
so  self-revealing,  was  the  delight  within  him.  The 
effort  of  repression  hardened  his  voice. 

"My  mother  hath  come  to  hold  with  my  father, 
and  as  her  flesh  is  weaker  she  suffers  more  and  oft 
belie veth  herself  to  be  of  the  lost.  "  His  tone  grew 
tenderly  indignant.  "An'  she  be  lost  there  is  no 
justice  in  Heaven,"  he  said  abruptly,  and  at  this, 
gazed  at  the  girl  as  if  to  find  sympathy  where  sym- 
pathy was  changed  to  coldness. 

"  'Tis  a  hard  faith,"  she  answered,  "fit  only  for 
hard  men. " 

"  Yet  it  hath  made  great  men. "      Roger's  disap- 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  267 

pointment  showed  in  a  yet  firmer  tension  of  his 
voice.  "  Think  only  of  Cromwell " 

The  girl  grew  scarlet. 

"A  butcher — a  murderous  miscreant !  And  you 
— you — can  honour  a  Cromwell ! "  She  bit  her  lips. 
With  the  word  he  had  touched  on  the  sorest  spot  in 
her  convictions.  Horror  of  the  regicide  was  a  pas- 
sion bred  in  her  very  blood.  "  What  faith  had  he — 
but  faith  in  himself,  but  love  of  slaughter ! " 

To  Roger  the  sudden  change  became  at  once  the 
sign  of  his  own  punishment.  He  had  erred,  ex- 
posing his  half-hearted  loyalty  to  the  faith  of  his 
home  !  And  he  had  said  but  truth  in  knowing  she 
would  be  repelled  by  its  actual  presentment.  The 
cavalier — he  was  of  her  world  !  Let  her  go  to  him  ! 
And  with  that  thought  a  pang  crueler  than  all  pun- 
ishment ! 

She  would  have  risen  and  left  him  save  that  she 
would  not  resent  too  openly  his  imagined  rebuke. 
She  remembered  bitterly  the  reputed  modesty  of  the 
Puritan  maids.  They  would  not  have  forgotten 
and  met  a  man's  advance  half  way;  yet  she  felt 
angrily  that  in  her  very  unconsciousness  was  some- 
thing nobler  than  in  their  shyness,  and  she  resented 
with  the  intensity  of  one  used  to  command  a  care- 
ful and  distant  homage  what  she  believed  to  have 
been  Roger's  thought  of  her. 

He  was  sitting  more  erect,  a  little  removed. 

"This  is  very  beautiful — but  'tis  always  here.  I 
shall  be  missed " 

She  was  going.  She  put  out  her  hand  in  a  stately 
fashion,  and  he  would  have  helped  her  to  rise,  but 
as  he  would  have  sprung  first  to  his  own  feet  he 
looked  beyond  her  and  drew  suddenly  near. 


268  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

Indecision,  warrings  of  conscience,  jealousy, 
were  no  more.  There  was  no  transition;  it  was 
another  man,  one  she  had  not  seen  before,  who 
spoke. 

"Slip  lower  on  the  slope  and  run,  "  he  said  quietly 
so  that  those  who  watched  should  not  suspect  the 

warning.  "Indians There's  no  shelter  here 

He  rose  smiling,  giving  her  his  hand. 
"Pretend  to  pick  the  berries  on  the  slope  below." 

The  Ridge,  open  as  cathedral  aisles  above,  was 
skirted  at  its  base  with  crowding  saplings  of  the 
dogwood  and  wild  cherry. 

She  rose  beside  him,  smiling,  like  himself. 

"  Berries  !  Let  us  get  some,  "  she  answered  gaily, 
her  voice  untroubled  as  the  smile,  but  as  she 
stooped  to  gather  the  first,  and  he  bent  beside  her 
(between  her  and  the  feathers  he  had  seen  peer- 
ing from  behind  a  tree)  she  whispered  rapidly, 
"  You  will  come  ?"  and  he  replied,  "Yes.  Ready 
— now. " 

Light — fleet — straight  as  the  sunshafts,  she  fled 
with  him  upon  the  path.  Roger's  look,  the  look  of 
a  man  who  will  dare  all  things  for  the  woman  he 
knows  he  loves,  had  flamed  on  her  without  conceal- 
ment in  the  second  of  their  interchanged  whisper. 
Something  in  its  undaunted  coolness,  its  sure  energy 
had  given  her  confidence.  They  ran  swiftly  and 
none  rose  to  intercept  them.  Roger's  eyes  had 
seen  the  scout  in  the  very  glance  that  discovered 
their  position  to  the  savage. 

Upon  their  track  the  Indian  drew  nearer  horribly 
— silent,  assured.  What  maid  could  outrun  an  In- 
dian ?  He  was  not  alone.  Roger's  ears,  sensitive 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  269 

as  any  Nipmuck's  of  them  all,  heard  the  sounds  he 
feared.  He  had  lifted  the  maid  and  quickened  his 
running  supernaturally.  They  were  in  sight  of  the 
stockade  when  he  heard  the  first  click  of  the  trig- 
ger. 

He  set  her  quickly  in  the  path. 

"Run!"  he  cried.  "Faster!"  wheeling  as  he 
shouted. 

The  Indian's  shot,  meant  for  the  girl,  missed  her 
for  she  too  had  wheeled  finding  Roger  had  not  fol- 
lowed. As  she  turned  the  Indian  fell. 

Roger's  shoulder  felt  the  pang  of  the  musket  ball 
that  answered.  Two  other  savages  had  leaped  the 
body  of  their  companion  and  were  upon  him.  There 
was  no  time  to  reload — and  one  unemptied  barrel 
remained  to  the  foe.  Roger  sprang  for  the  fore- 
most who  would  have  slipped  past  in  pursuit  of  the 
girl.  On  the  Indian's  head  he  brought  down  his 
gun  with  a  crash.  He  could  not  stop  to  see  where  the 
man  tumbled,  nor  to  seize  his  weapon.  The  last  of 
the  three  had  raised  his  own  musket.  Roger  tore 
it  from  him  with  a  wrench  that  dropped  the  in- 
jured arm  helpless  and  swinging. 

The  satisfied  fury  of  a  snake  trodden  on  by  a 
bare  foot  gleamed  in  the  Nipmuck's  eyes.  With  a 
leap  he  grappled  his  crippled  enemy,  drawing  a 
knife  as  they  wrestled.  The  uninjured  arm  was 
busy  warding  off  the  grasp.  The  knife  caught  the 
sunlight  bewilderingly  on  its  short  blade.  Blood 
was  dripping  from  Roger's  sleeve. 

Then  the  Nipmuck's  wrist  was  clutched  from  be- 
hind, the  girl's  fingers  sunk  into  the  bare  flesh  of  the 
savage  with  a  force  desperate  enough  to  give  sur- 


270  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

prise.  The  mere  instant  wherein  the  Indian 
wavered  sufficed.  Before  he  had  recovered  that 
second's  pause  he  was  down,  his  knife  wet  to  the 
hilt  in  his  own  blood. 

As  they  gained  the  stockade  an  arrow  sped  from 
a  bush  pierced  the  Maid's  sleeve. 


CHAPTER  XX 
"FOES  WITHIN" 

ROGER  dragged  forward  the  gate  and  thrust 
it  close,  dropping  the  bars  before  he  spoke. 
Plimly,   his  muscles  swollen  with  run- 
ning, at  the  same  moment  shut  and  barred  the  river 
gate  through  which  he  entered.     The  household, 
dazed  or  voluble  with  questions,  hurrying  to  meet 
them,  hung  about  the  Maid. 

Sir  Humphrey's  face  was  whiter  than  its  wont. 
It  showed  a  slight  tremor  of  agitation  beneath  the 
delicately  managed  rouge.  It  was  fitting,  the  anx- 
iety, but  Roger,  keyed  to  preternatural  compre- 
hension, had  seen  the  start,  the  angry  disappoint- 
ment with  which  his  own  presence  had  been  recog- 
nized. He  recalled  the  figure  disappearing  into 
the  forest  an  hour  before  and,  as  lightning  reveals 
a  cloud-wrapped  landscape  there  came  to  him  the 
face  of  the  Indian  seen  at  twilight  in  the  Muddy 
River  woods.  It  was  he  who  had  been  the  second 
of  their  foes  to  fall. 

Sir  Humphrey  had  plucked  the  arrow  from  the 
girl's  sleeve,  and  when  she  would  have  grasped  it, 
held  it  solicitously  out  of  her  reach. 

"  Do  not  touch  it, "  he  warned  her.  "  It  may  be 
poisoned. " 

The  girl  had  recovered  her  breath  and  was  telling 
in  few  words  that  which  had  befallen.     Madam 
Chanterell's  reproaches  at  her  straying  rose  above 
the  chorus  of  frightened  exclamation. 
271 


2?2  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"Thou  dost  not  find  strolling  so  successful  here- 
away, my  Captain !"  The  malicious  voice  was  in 
Roger's  ears  as  the  cavalier  drew  near  under  pre- 
tence of  helping  to  sink  the  last  bar  in  its  socket. 
"Couldst  thou  not  remember  thy  own  wisdom 
anent  the  woods  of  Andover?" 

Roger  paid  no  heed  to  the  taunting  murmur. 
Bozoun  Plimly  had  joined  him  and  they  conferred 
swiftly,  Bozoun  sending  the  terrified  dependants 
about  the  tasks  most  needful,  quelling  their  out- 
cries with  ready  new  England  energy.  The  one 
maid  servant  Madam  Chanterell  had  beguiled  from 
her  English  home  wept  frantically,  clinging  to 
Temple's  gown.  It  was  for  Temple,  not  her  mis- 
tress, she  had  dared  the  sea  and  braved  the  savages. 
Madam  Chanterell,  still  chiding  the  Maid,  had  not 
interrupted  herself  to  speak  to  Roger.  It  was  evi- 
dent she  felt  his  coming  someway  responsible  for 
the  disaster. 

Sir  John  had  been  last  to  hear  the  commotion. 
Sleep  still  stupefied  his  expression  as  he  came  forth. 
His  first  glance  was  for  the  Maid  and  anxiety  dis- 
persed the  heaviness  as  he  saw  her  pallor  and  the 
weeping  servant  still  clinging  to  her  gown.  His 
dull  face  showed  a  strong  consternation  even  when 
he  found  the  danger  for  the  time  was  over. 

"They'll  not  return  before  the  night,"  Plimly 
announced  impatiently.  "Meantime  we  may  pre- 
pare. " 

"You  should  have  told  us,  Sir  Humphrey.  'Twas 
you  declared "  began  Sir  John. 

The  words  became  a  whirring  and  were  lost  to 
Roger.  He  had  stoutly  resisted  the  hotly  urged 
advice  of  Plimly. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  273 

"Wait — till  the  others  be  withdrawn,"  he  had 
protested.  "  'Tis  time  then.  " 

"Time!  Thou'rt  bleeding  to  death  already!" 
Bozoun  was  angry  and  the  look  he  cast  upon  the 
group  surrounding  the  girl,  full  of  contempt. 
"  'Twill  not  matter  to  them,  "  he  had  added.  "  Be 
not  so  squeamish. " 

Even  as  he  spoke,  the  Maid  started  forward  with 
a  cry. 

"  Captain  Verring  is  wounded  !  Look  Sir  John — 
he  is  falling  ! " 

Roger  did  not  hear.  His  struggle  to  conceal  his 
growing  weakness  had  ended  in  the  stout  arms  of 
Plimly  who  caught  him  as  he  fell.  Before  Bozoun 
could  stretch  the  unconscious  figure  upon  the 
ground  the  girl  was  at  his  side,  striving  vainly  to 
stop  the  flow  of  blood. 

If  she  heard  the  loud  protest  of  Madam  Chanter- 
ell  she  did  not  reply,  kneeling  quickly  to  give  the 
aid  of  her  slender  fingers.  The  man  slit  the  heavy 
sleeve  and  she  helped  him  deftly  as  he  cut  away  the 
linen  beneath, soaked  miserably  with  the  red  stream 
that  poured  from  the  lacerated  arm.  The  bullet 
had  torn  through  the  muscles  close  to  the  shoulder, 
ploughing  deep  on  its  way. 

The  Indian  squaw  who  wrought  with  another 
slave  in  the  smoky  kitchen  had  come  at  Temple's 
demand  and,  as  they  dressed  the  tortured  flesh, 
brought  a  pulp  of  moistened  tobacco  and  bound  it 
firmly  upon  the  wound  to  stanuch  the  persistent 
welling  of  the  blood. 

As  they  fastened  the  bandages,  pressing  them 
smoothly  above  the  squaw's  poultice,  Roger,  half 


274  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

conscious,  half  in  the  borderland  of  dreaming, 
thought  he  was  again  upon  the  Araby  Rose. 

"The  Little  Maid" — he  began  indistinctly. 
"Maccartey — where — is — the  Little  Maid?" 

But  the  shame  of  weakness  cleared  his  clouded 
mind  and  the  sense  of  work  undone  would  have 
brought  him  upright  had  not  a  light  and  per- 
emptory touch  pressed  him  back  in  quick  denial. 

She  was  putting  the  final  stitches  in  the  linen  and 
he  felt  each  careful  motion,  his  eyes  darkening  in 
his  white  face  as  he  watched  Plimly,  who  had  left 
them  to  resume  command  and  now  toiled  rapidly 
at  the  loading  of  an  arsenal  of  muskets  piled  about 
his  feet. 

Colour  crept  faintly  into  Roger's  cheeks  as  the  girl 
laid  a  dry  compress  above  the  bandage  and  pinned 
the  cloth  across  it,  her  lips  close,  her  eyes  intent 
and  troubled. 

Roger  turned  a  little  toward  her,  unmindful  of  the 
pain,  the  whole  soul  of  him  drinking  unhindered 
her  nearness.  For  a  breath  she  seemed  to  answer 
with  a  grace  of  tender  giving,  her  self  crying  out  to 
him  from  its  lonely  fastness.  But  dread  of  an  un- 
known, a  new-suspected  danger  woke  him  to  full 
knowledge,  a  dread  that  had  been  striving  to  be 
recognized  since  first  his  eyes  reopened. 

"Your  cousin — Gregory  Bellingham — are  you 
sure  he  is  in  London  ? " 

The  Indian  woman  had  gone.  The  girl  was  still 
busied  upon  the  blood-stained  coat.  Her  long 
sleeve  brushed  his  face  as  she  lifted  her  arm  to  look 
at  him,  surprised. 

"When  last  we  knew  he  was  in  London.     But 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  275 

that  was  many  months  since.  His  fortunes  have 
fallen  with  the  coming  of  the  new  King,  they  say.  " 

"  May  I  see  again  the  picture  of  your  father  ? " 

She  drew  the  miniatures  from  her  bodice,  still 
greater  surprise  written  on  her  face. 

"  Look  quickly,  "  she  said  as  she  opened  the  case. 
"I  would  not " 

A  groan  had  risen  to  Roger's  lips. 

"  Dost  see  no  resemblance  ? "  he  asked  feverishly. 

"  Resemblance  ? " 

"Sir  Humphrey — 'tis  perhaps — I  may  be  mad. 
But  the  Indians  were  so  few.  One — the  second — 
I  saw  in  earnest  converse  with  Sir  Humphrey 
Wildglass  not  later  than  two  days  ago  at  Muddy 
River " 

He  spoke  in  snatches.  She  listened  fixedly.  With 
coldness,  with  distrust,  he  thought.  Did  she  be- 
lieve he  lied?  Traducing  a  rival?  Torn  between 
his  fear  for  her  and  his  pride,  he  fell  sharply  silent. 

"Sir  Humphrey  is  our  friend,"  the  girl  said  at 
last  slowly.  Whether  the  deliberation  was  reflec- 
tion or  reproach,  it  but  confirmed  Roger's  belief 
that  she  doubted  him. 

"I  can  stand  now,"  he  said.  "My  suspicions 
have  an  ill  look  in  your  eyes,  Mistress  Armitage. 
But  I  beg  you  to  be  cautious,  and  not  to  repeat  that 
which  I  have  confided,  not  even  to  your  'friend' — 
to  Sir  Humphrey. " 

He  knew  this  request  looked  doubly  the  coward's 
attack,  but  to  let  the  cavalier  know  he  had  seen  the 
-Indian  at  Boston  was  to  betray  New  England — no 
less  than  the  girl. 

The  night  came  quickly  upon  the  late  twilight. 


276  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Sir  John,  recklessly  careless  till  now,  panic-stricken 
at  the  sudden  realization  of  that  to  which  he  had 
exposed  his  sister  and  his  charge,  looked  helplessly 
to  Roger  for  direction. 

"By  my  faith,"  he  ejaculated  once.  "I  could 
swear,  Captain,  we'd  met  before — but  where  ? " 

The  answer  had  been  without  words.  Sir  John's 
tolerant  liking  was  too  much  a  patronage  for  any 
recalling  of  the  scene  upon  the  London  wharf. 
This  new-created  baronet  should  find  no  purring 
beneath  a  stroking  hand  in  the  son  of  Nicolas  and 
Alison  Verring.  Roger's  glance  darkened  coldly  as 
he  thought  how  soon  the  "insolent  provincial" 
would  be  damned  in  Sir  John's  explosive  vocabu- 
lary if  that  nobleman  knew  his  meaning  about  the 
Little  Maid. 

The  anger,  even  the  jealousy,  were  somewhat 
eased  in  the  swift  need  for  deeds. 

The  small  windows  were  firmly  shuttered,  the 
guns  and  ammunition  were  distributed  or  carefully 
placed  ready  to  the  hand,  water  stood  in  buckets 
wherever  it  might  be  wanted  to  put  out  a  fallen 
brand.  In  all  this  and  in  the  bestowal  of  the  stock 
for  greater  safety,  no  less  than  in  the  planning  of 
the  night's  campaign,  Roger's  was  the  directing 
voice.  As  the  work  drew  on  to  accomplishment 
the  fever  of  jealousy  returned  upon  him,  throbbing 
more  cruelly  than  his  wound. 

He  was  conscious  of  each  movement  of  the  girl. 
It  was  to  her  the  women  held  for  comfort  and  sup- 
port as  the  men  to  him.  He  would  have  approached 
to  beg  her  to  rest,but  whenever  he  made  the  attempt 
Madam  Chanterell  was  before  him.  Sir  Humphrey 


THE  COAST  OP  FREEDOM  277 

hovered  about  her,  a  growing  insistency  in  his  de- 
votion. Even  in  the  gloom  of  their  preparations 
Roger  saw  that  her  flash  of  wit  ever  answered  the 
cavalier  and  her  laughter  followed  his  sally. 

It  was  what  he  should  himself  have  wished,  lest 
the  man  be  set  on  his  guard.  But  Roger  felt  only 
that  she  meant  to  put  upon  a  cowardly  accusation 
the  contempt  it  deserved. 

The  hospitality  of  the  enemy  was  irksome  to  him ; 
contact  with  it  had  dulled  the  edge  of  the  day's 
joy.  The  thanks,  perfunctory  and  grudging,  of 
Madam  Chanterell,  the  goodfellowship  of  Sir  John, 
offered  as  to  an  inferior,  even  the  dependence  on  his 
strength  that  classed  him  with  Bozoun  Plimly,  were 
bitter  to  his  taste. 

He  was  conscious  of  the  roughness  of  his  outer 
man  after  the  woods,  of  the  nice  perfection  of  his 
rival. 

The  sentinels  were  placed  before  the  dusk  grew 
wholly  into  the  dark.  If  the  Nipmucks  were  not 
far  from  their  own  tribe  there  might  be  quick  re- 
prisals and  Sir  Humphrey,  who  knew  little  of  the 
fire  he  played  with,  be  victim  to  his  own  unscrupu- 
lous greed,  But  the  danger  was  not  for  the  earlier 
hours.  Terror  made  the  watchers  trustworthy 
and  Roger  was  driven  by  the  weakness  of  his  drained 
body  and  the  raging  of  Bozoun  Plimly  to  rest  lest  he 
fail  in  the  hour  of  greatest  stress. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  he  wakened  from  a 
nightmare  of  visions  to  ever-increasing  pain.  He 
pulled  himself  erect  by  the  back  of  the  settle  on 
which  he  had  fallen  asleep  and  got  quickly  to  the 
enclosure  outside. 


278  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  moon  had  not  yet  risen  and  he  made  the 
round  of  the  sentries  in  the  dark.  One  of  the  slaves 
and  Sir  John  he  sent  within.  The  other  negro  with 
the  Indian  woman  and  himself  would  reinforce 
Plimly  who  had  refused  all  sleep  and,  at  Roger's 
word,  kept  a  lynx  eye  upon  the  motions  of  Sir 
Humphrey  Wildglass.  It  had  been  easy  to  reject 
the  services  of  the  cavalier.  He  was  too  new  to  the 
wilderness. 

The  night  rustled  in  solemn  warning  on  every 
hand.  The  lonesome  call  of  a  loon,  the  short  bark 
or  howl  of  wild  things  disturbed  in  their  nightly 
ramble,  the  depressing  hoot  of  the  owls,  sounded 
from  near  at  hand.  Strange  creatures  snuffed  at 
the  stockade  and  slipped  stealthily  away. 

The  fever  of  his  hurt  was  burning  in  corroding 
heat  through  Roger's  whole  body,  and  the  hot  night 
stifled  him.  He  kept  strict  watch  on  his  sentinels 
within  as  well  as  on  the  forest  without,  and  essayed 
often  the  use  of  his  wounded  arm,  forced  to  desist 
lest  renewed  bleeding  render  him  helpless. 

As  the  moon  sailed  clear  of  the  spiring  tops  of 
pines  and  firs,  the  door  opened  and  the  Maid  came 
hurriedly  toward  him.  She  bore  something  in  her 
hand. 

"  Drink,  please, "  she  begged  as  she  held  it  out. 
"You  should  not  be  here — you  risk  too  much  for 

us "  Her  voice  faltered.  "Please  drink  it. 

The  Indian  woman  is  skilful ;  she  taught  me  the  way 
'twas  made. "  She  glanced  hurriedly  around  as  if 
fearing  interruption.  "Captain  Verring " 

He  had  taken  the  cup,  and  moved  closer  to  her, 
listening. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM          279 

"Ah,  Mistress,  'tis  here  you  are!  Poor  Madam 
bemoaneth  fearfully  within  the  house,  not  doubt- 
ing you  be  devoured  ^already  by  brutal  salvages. 
She  called  to  me  to  fetch  you.  "  Sir  Humphrey 
had  come  with  no  delay  upon  her  track.  "Is  the 
shoulder  not  vastly  painful,  Captain  ?  'Tis  a  weight 
of  obligation  you've  laid  upon  us  strangers ;  'tis  sad 
the  reward  for  so  much  hardship  should  be  but 
treasures  in  Heaven  ! " 

"Your  solicitude  is  greater  than  my  need,  Sir 
Humphrey,  "  Roger  answered  with  ironic  calm.  He 
had  turned  back  quickly,  hoping  the  Maid  would 
linger.  She  hesitated  an  instant,  but  when  she  had 
seen  the  cup  emptied  she  took  it  from  him  and 
went  away  with  the  cavalier. 

He  was  not  left  long  alone  The  voice  of  Sir 
Humphrey  sounded  again  beside  him. 

"Rash  and  forgetful  fellow,  thou  hast  yet  much 
to  learn  ! "  The  moonlight  showed  the  unpleasant 
smile  upon  the  well-marked  features  that  in  the 
night  required  no  touch  of  art  to  make  them  young. 

Roger  leaned  on  his  musket,  gazing  through  the 
loophole  into  the  space  outside. 

"Wert  thou  still  for  Montreal — to  pleasure  the 
worthy  Phips  with  news,"  the  voice  went  smoothiy 
on,  "or — nay — was't  a  sweet  care  for  us  that 
brought  thee  strolling?  'Twas  thoughtful  but " 

"Needless,"  Roger  interrupted  calmly.  His 
eyes  returned  from  their  exploration  of  the  clearing 
and  rested  in  close  scrutiny  on  the  man's  face. 
"Sir  Humphrey  seems  not  to  desire  protection. 
His  friends  here  be  too  numerous.  'Tis  pity, "  he 
continued  more  slowly,  "he  stretches  not  his  in- 
visible aegis,  to  save  others.  " 


a8o  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

'"Out  of  the  mouth  of  babes'!  'Tis  a  brave 
rhetoric  they  give  thee,  the  schoolmasters  of  Bos- 
ton!" Sir  Humphrey  smiled  again,  "  Wouldst 
have  me  Lord  Protector  of  all  thy  wilderness?" 

"God  forbid.  Commonwealths  and  dictators  be 
not  in  fashion  with  us.  "  Roger  answered  the  smile 
with  one  as  cool.  "Rather  would  my  wilderness 
crave  another  boon  of  Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass.  " 

"Crave  on,  my  gay  Puritan."  Roger  turned 
with  deliberate  waiting,  gazed  again  toward  the 
forest,  and  fixed  once  more  upon  the  face  of  the 
cavalier  the  look  that  studied  him  line  by  line. 

"That  he  pursue  the  crusade  for  gold — in  Cana- 
da, "  he  said  unmoved. 

"  Modest,  forsooth  !  'Twould  give  me  life,  young 

sir.  I  die,  here,  of  gloom  and  doleful  dumps 

But  each  treasure  in  turn !  And  hark  ye,  my 
short-haired  knight,  some  treasures  be  not  for  thy 
protection.  'Twere  better  for  thee  to  stroll  else- 
where. Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass  can  protect  his 
friends. " 

"Then  Mistress  Armitage — is  not  his  'friend'?" 

Roger's  lips  did  not  relax  their  curve,  but  his 
eyes  kept  rigorous  guard  upon  more  than  the 
forest  as  Sir  Humphrey  moved  away. 

The  dawn  looked  upon  them  still  undisturbed. 
If  the  Maid  made  further  attempt  to  speak  with  her 
defender  she  was  prevented.  Roger  could  not  see 
that  she  did  attempt  it,  and  he  cursed  his  sanguine 
spirit  that  had  hoped  too  much  for  the  little  begin- 
ning whose  tone  his  folly  must  have  then  misread. 
At  the  corners  of  his  eyes  branching  lines  were 
marked  in  the  youthful  skin. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  281 

Bozoun  Plimly  came  to  him  and  they  talked  long, 
in  the  centre  of  the  stockaded  space  where  none 
could  approach  unseen. 

"  Remember  I  have  rashly  betrayed  I  suspect  his 
spying.  For  the  other  he  is  not  warned.  But  let 
the  Maid  never  from  thy  sight — set  the  slaves  to  do 
that  which  is  too  far  afield — and  watch. " 

"Aye — aye."  Bozoun  nodded.  "  'Twill  not  be 
tried  again — the  Indians.  He's  too  cute  for  that. 
But  I'll  watch — fear  not.  Go  yet  thou  must  not, 
Roger — risking  the  woods  and  a  worse " 

"  I  must,  Bozoun.  Keep  guard  over  the  Maid — 
day  and  night.  "  He  moved  swiftly  away,  and  then 
came  back,  added  another  word,  and  was  gone. 

Plimly  looked  after  him  with  a  scowl  of  anxious 
indignation. 

There  was  open  distress  at  the  departure. 
Madam  feared  the  withdrawal  of  his  wise  vigilance ; 
Sir  John  blustered,  peremptory  and  suspicious, 
at  his  decision.  Roger,  giving  brief  reassurance, 
felt  certain  the  danger  from  the  Indians  was 
passed;  but  of  that  he  could  say  nothing. 

"It    is    not    safe   in   the   woods You   are 

wounded,  Captain  Verring. "  The  girl  had  risen, 
between  him  and  Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass,  and 
as  she  spoke,  she  looked  at  him  strangely,  sud- 
denly whiter  than  himself.  But  she  said  no  more, 
nor  did  Madam  and  Sir  Humphrey  allow  chance 
for  any  word  alone;  and  as  he  set  out  he  saw 
the  cavalier  take  the  place  by  the  Maid's  side 
and  heard  the  smooth  voice  in  mockery  of  fare- 
well: 

"Be  cautious  in  thy  going,  my  good  Captain. 


282  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

And  fear  naught  for   us.     The  treasure  shall  be 
protected. " 

So  he  went  away  sore  wounded,  and  for  the 
scourging  of  his  thoughts  scarce  heeded  if  enemies 
lurked  beside  the  trail  so  painfully  retraced.  But 
the  Verring  will  showed  more  than  ever  strongly  in 
his  strong  features  as  he  went,  and  there  was  de- 
termination mightier  than  pain  in  the  unswerving 
purpose  of  his  look. 


CHAPTER    XXI 

THE  MADNESS  OF  BOTOLPH*S  TOWN 

"By  the  pricking  of  my  thumbs 
Something  wicked  this  way  comes." 

THE  slow  stream  of  people  issuing  from  the 
Thursday  Lecture  flowed  back  to  a  respect- 
ful distance  from  the  door  of  the  North 
Church  as,  through  a  lane  where  solemn  boys  and 
girls  bobbed  and  curtseyed,  Mr.  Cotton  Mather 
progressed  methodically  toward  the  street. 

Below  the  wide  steps  he  stopped,  halting  his  or- 
derly progress  at  the  stocks.  There,  in  full  view  of 
the  departing  congregation  sat  a  youth,  his  face 
blue  with  cold,  his  breast  covered  by  a  huge  D  that 
hung  bald  and  accusing  from  his  neck. 

Behind  the  minister's  back  tongues  held  long  in 
leash  had  taken  quick  vantage  of  recovered  free- 
dom. 

"  A  learned  discourse — and  a  timely  ! "  The  man 
who  spoke  fluttered  the  notes  in  his  hand. 

A  young  woman  in  a  scarlet  cloak  supplied  the 
extra  tribute. 

"Eben,  couldst  thou  do  like  Mr.  Godfroy,  write 
and  listen  at  the  same  moment?"  She  looked  up 
coquettishly  at  her  husband,  who  stared  at  the  com- 
placent Mr.  GoSfroy  without  envy. 

"  Nay,  Lois,  I  could  not,  "  he  replied  contentedly. 

"A  great  discourse  !"  the  taker  of  notes  was  re- 

283 


284  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

peating.  "Verily,  Satan's  witches  must  have 
trembled  had  they  been  there.  " 

"  They  were  searching  words  !  And  who  knows  ? 
None  is  safe. "  The  woman  that  answered  looked 
fearfully  about  as  she  half  whispered  her  response, 
her  pallid  face  twitching  with  excitement.  "Mis- 
tress Waite  saith  her  Zillah.was  seized  of  a  sudden 
with  a  sharp  pricking  like  a  needle,  and  found  it 
sticking  in  the  flesh  of  her  foot — which  she  drew  out 
and  showed  it  to  her  mother — a  fearsome  great 
needle !  And  there  was  no  mark  of  it  neither  on 
the  foot,  for  I,  too,  looked.  She  can  but  suspect  'tis 
Goody  Burrill.  Only  sennight  she  refused  the  old 
woman  a  noggin  o'  milk  and  the  beldame  swore  at 
her. "  The  speaker  lifted  a  pinch  of  snuff  to  her 
nose  and  sneezed  violently. 

In  the  pause,  her  nearest  neighbour  spoke  up 
hastily. 

"  I  ask  my  Reuben  every  day  if  he  feeleth  any 
strange  pain, "  she  announced  with  snapping  eyes. 
"There's  enemies  made  by  an  honest  tongue  would 
like  no  better  than  to  afflict  a  helpless  child.  " 

Reuben,  waiting,  a  drab  and  joyless  image,  be- 
side his  mother,  looked  up  at  her  with  a  terrified 
attention. 

"  'Tis  fearful !  And  there  can  be  none  so  fitted 
to  deal  with  the  matter  as  is  Mr.  Mather.  'Tis  well 

he  is  here "  Mr.  Godfrey  was  rolling  his  notes 

into  a  cylinder  in  his  hand,  preparing  to  stow  them 
away.  He  broke  off  both  speech  and  motion, 
gazing  horrified  at  the  whisperer. 

The  mother  of  Reuben  cried  out.  The  frightened 
child  seized  upon  her  gown  with  a  nervous  clutch. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  285 

"Woman,  thou  art  bewitched  thyself!"  Mr. 
Godfrey  had  recovered  his  voice,  but  he  remained 
motionless,  dwelling  with  alarmed  fascination  upon 
the  pallid  features  that  grimaced  at  him  helplessly. 
The  woman  essayed  to  speak  but  her  tongue  was 
become  unruly. 

Many  had  turned  to  stare  with  Mr.  Godfrey  and 
the  mother  of  Reuben,  in  a  horror  that  had  its  ele- 
ment of  satisfaction.  Here  was  visible  proof  of  Mr. 
Mather's  words,  a  fitting  climax  to  his  denunciation. 
The  twitching  grew  more  ungoverned  as  the  victim 
met  the  fixed  and  gloating  gaze  of  the  throng 
that  rapidly  increased.  With  a  sound  of  angry 
terror  she  pushed  the  nearest  out  of  her  way  and 
escaped. 

"She  had  the  strength  of  ten !" 

"Who  hath  afflicted  her?" 

"  'Tis  an  old  affection  of  Mary  Epps — any  one 
will  tell  ye,  "  put  in  a  calmer  voice.  "  'Twas  ever  a 
pastime  of  her  schoolfellows  to  make  her  angry 
that  her  face  might  twitch.  "  'Twas  worse  then 
— though  'tis  late  returned  upon  her. " 

"  Some  witch  hath  her  then  this  long  time  in  sub- 
jection. "  Mr.  Godfrey  spoke  with  stern  reproba- 
tion of  the  speaker's  tone.  "Who  was  it  could 
thus  tdrment  her?" 

"Any  one  could  do  it,"  began  the  voice,  but  it 
was  interrupted. 

"  'Twas  Silas  Ty field  who  would  be  always 
thorning  her. " 

"Aye — he  was  a  dreadful  thorn."  The  crowd 
looked  at  one  another  with  questioning  significance, 
dispersing  in  smaller  groups  toward  their  houses. 


286  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  young  woman  of  the  scarlet  cloak  threw 
back  its  folds  and  let  the  marvels  of  her  "appear- 
ing-out"  dress  flash  casually  upon  those  damsels 
who  were  not  yet  brides. 

Mr.  Godfrey  took  the  same  way  with  the  married 
pair,  recounting  the  sufferings  of  the  witch-ridden 
of  other  towns. 

"  'Tis  their  own  son  that  they  accuse,  "  he  finished 
mysteriously,  rounding  out  a  tale  of  great  distress. 
"  Truly  doth  Mr.  Mather  say  the  Devil  hath  marked 
the  godliness  of  New  England  and  would  fain  con- 
quer it  for  his  own.  Why  should  Satan  linger  in 
London,  a  place  he  hath  already  !  And  mark  you 
this,  'tis  only  since  the  coming  of  so  many  London- 
ers and  London  ways  that  witchcraft  rageth.  " 

"They  say,"  volunteered  the  bridegroom,  "that 
the  beautiful  Mistress  Armitage  be  a  witch — but 
for  my  part  I  believe  it  not.  " 

"And  why  not  she ? "  demanded  his  wife.  " She 
hath  the  most  curious  power.  Even  the  animals 
follow  her. " 

"And  no  wonder,  "  began  the  husband,  "  an'  they 
have  eyes. " 

"  Hush,  there  she  cometh.  "  The  young  woman 
pressed  her  husband's  arm  in  warning.  "I'll  war- 
rant me  she's  been  not  near  the  meeting.  " 

The  cold  that  had  pinched  and  sharpened  the 
features  of  those  who  had  sat  long  at  their  devotions 
had  but  added  to  the  glow  in  the  cheeks  of  Mistress 
Armitage.  She  was  returning  from  the  house  of 
Lady  Phips,  who  was  anxious  and  lonely  in  Sir 
William's  absence,  and  the  pleasure  of  a  service 
effectively  performed  gave  a  special  buoyancy  to 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  287 

her  motion.  Though  in  all  her  modish  costume 
there  was  not  a  note  of  colour  half  so  bright  as  the 
scarlet  cloak  of  the  bride,  she  seemed  the  more 
vivid  of  the  two. 

"Who  is't  saith  she  is  a  witch?"  demanded  Mr. 
Godfrey  curiously. 

'  'Tis  in  everybody's  mouth, "  answered  the 
young  woman  again,  lifting  her  eyebrows  in  sur- 
prise. "  Beulah  Munch  hath  felt  her  spell.  Often 
she  hath  gone  to  her,  minded  to  say  a  certain  thing, 
and  against  her  will  hath  been  made  to  say  just  the 
opposite.  Even  Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass  seems  to 
think  'tis  true.  And  he  hath  a  better  knowledge, 
being  the  friend  of  Madam  Chanterell.  " 

"But  what  hath  she  done,  Lois ?"  persisted  the 
husband.  "  Beulah  Munch  was  never  one  to  know 
well  her  own  mind  after  'twas  made  up.  If 
'twere  witchcraft  whenever  a  woman  thought  a 
certain  thing  and  said  the  opposite " 

"Jesting  is  ill-timed,  Eben, "  reproved  the  girl. 
"  What  if  she  came  at  night  in  the  form  of  a  cat  and 

tempted   Beulah  to  sign  the   Devil's    book " 

She  hesitated,  shuddering. 

Both  men  exclaimed  in  shocked  credulity,  look- 
ing with  redoubled  interest  after  the  trim  grace  of 
the  figure  that  had  passed  them  on  the  other  side  of 
the  way. 

"  'Twas  not  Beulah  told  me  about  the  Devil's 
book  but  Goodwife  Bolt  who  must  have  it  from 
her,  "  the  bride  added  honestly. 

"Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass — a  pleasant-spoken 
man  though  I  fear  his  life  hath  been  of  a  reckless 
sort !  He  hath  commanded  a  suit  of  kerseymere 


288  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

from  Mr.  Viall's  son  Luther,  and  is  most  particular 
it  be  plain  and  of  a  sober  hue.  Mayhap  he  seeth 
that  the  ornament  of  a  godly  spirit  is  more  to  be 
desired  than  fine  raiment.  Lodgeth  he  yet  at  the 
Sign  of  the  Orange  Tree?"  Mr.  Godfrey's  pause 
was  full  of  a  weighty  eagerness. 

"He  is  lately  returned  there.  He  was  away  from 
the  town  when  Governor  Phips  set  forth  for  Pema- 
quid.  "  The  young  woman  shivered  a  little  in  the 
keen  wind  as  she  spoke.  "  'Twas  the  very  day 
after  Sir  John  Winchcombe  came  back  to  Boston 
with  his  family.  I  remember,  for  that  Good  wife 
Bolt  had  not  made  an  end  of  her  preserving  and 
was  in  some  straits  to  stop  and  prepare  his  room, 
and  Goody  Quail  was  not  to  be  had,  being  em- 
ployed at  the  Widow  Pullen's  house  by  Madam 
Chanterell. " 

Others  besides  themselves  had  looked  with  a  sin- 
ister interest  after  the  girl  who  passed  them  uncon- 
scious of  their  scrutiny,  absorbed  in  the  memory  of 
the  hour  just  gone.  It  had  been  a  pleasant  hour; 
Lady  Phips  had  talked  much  of  Boston  and  its 
people,  of  the  governor,  and  of  his  friends. 

Mr.  Willard,  impressive  in  the  full  canonicals  of 
Sunday  black  and  dazzling  bands  of  sheer  and 
speckless  linen,  turned  his  eyes  upon  her  gravely,  a 
kindly  pity  in  the  glance.  His  flock,  taking  their 
way  in  many  directions  from  the  South  Meeting, 
mingled  with  the  congregation  of  the  rival  church, 
talking  with  an  air  of  cold  reserve.  Few,  like  Mr. 
Godfroy,  were  alone.  Whole  families,  oftenest 
three  generations,  went  side  by  side,  or  drove  in 
lumbering  coach  or  chariot  toward  a  ferry.  From 


THE    COAST  OF   FREEDOM  289 

Hannover  street,  through  twisting  paths  and  alleys, 
the  throng  was  moving  with  more  haste  toward 
Queen  street  and  the  prison. 

Here  the  crowd  was  somewhat  more  worldly  in 
its  make-up.  Outlandish  garb  of  sailors  strayed 
ashore,  bright  caps  worn  by  the  lads  and  set  upon 
locks  trimmed  evenly  at  the  collar  like  a  mop,  gay 
feathers  and  bright  flounces  in  costumes  that  defied 
the  law,  relieved  the  earthly  dulness  of  frieze  and 
lockram,  rough  dowlas  and  brown  duffels  spun  and 
dyed  upon  the  hearth. 

Here  too,  about  the  pillory  set  up  before  the  jail, 
was  some  excitement.  The  pelting  was  at  its 
height.  Eggs  aimed  at  the  victims  of  the  law  fell 
lower  down  and  spoiled  the  complacence  of  some 
who  dodged  too  late,  affording  the  impartial  looker- 
on  a  grim  delight.  Stale  odours  of  rotted  vegetables 
and  varied  garbage  meant  for  missiles  made  an  un- 
pleasant stench.  None  save  the  more  delicate  and 
the  self-conscious  who  feared  their  dignity  refused 
the  sport. 

Two  of  the  targets  were  beyond  a  saving  sense  of 
righteous  retribution.  Their  faces,  bruised  and 
smeared  past  recollection  gave  no  sign  of  life.  But 
the  third,  marred  and  fouled  like  the  others,  gazed 
down  upon  the  men  who  did  the  pelting,  still  con- 
scious of  each  blow.  His  ears,  nailed  to  the  plank- 
ing, through  which  his  head  and  hands  protruded, 
stood  out  grotesquely  on  either  side  the  discoloured 
features. 

"  'Tis  James  Hewson ! "  volunteered  Mr.  God- 
froy  with  deep  interest,  as  he  came  near  enough  to 
distinguish  the  man's  countenance. 


290  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"  He  that  would  have  it  Eunice  Fayerweather  but 
dreamed  she  saw  a  witch-dog  in  the  night? "  asked 
the  bridegroom. 

"Yea,  'tis  he,  "  answered  Mr.  Godfrey  with  fresh 
pleasure  in  the  recognition.  "  He  stirreth  up  much 
strife,  speaking  scurrilously  of  the  Commission  and 
saying  that  the  witches  have  no  true  trial.  If  he  be 
not  one  of  the  malignants,  I  know  not  what  to  say.  " 

The  young  wife  touched  her  husband  peremp- 
torily, averting  her  look  as  a  flinty  pebble  set  the 
blood  flowing  on  Hewson's  face. 

"  Come,  Eben,  there  be  all  the  chores  to  do,  "  she 
admonished.  "And  thou  saidst  there  were  lumps 
in  the  brindle  cow's  bag  this  morning.  " 

"  Dost  think  it  may  be  the  brindle  is  bewitched  ? " 
asked  Mr.  Godfrey,  transferring  his  interest. 

"  I  saw  old  Simeon  Farley  at  the  barn  but  yest'r- 
e'en,  Eben.  Come  quickly,  "  urged  the  wife.  "  If 
we  lose  the  cow  I  fear  me  my  father  will  say  thou 

didst  feed  her  wrong .  Good-even,  Captain 

Verring. " 

Roger  had  fallen  upon  the  party  suddenly  as  he 
made  his  way  up  from  the  wharves,  whither,  after 
the  service,  he  had  gone  to  meet  an  overdue  argosy 
just  come  to  anchor.  He  greeted  the  three  some- 
what coldly,  having  small  liking  for  the  pious  gos- 
sip of  Mr.  Godfrey. 

He  had  chosen  the  way  leading  past  the  house 
where  Sir  John  Winchcombe  had  again  ensconced 
his  family,  and  was  walking  rapidly.  But  in  the 
enforced  pause  for  fitting  reply  to  the  bride's  saluta- 
tion, he  came  opposite  the  high  platform  of  the 
pillory,  and  lifted  his  eyes. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  291 

"  Hewson  ! — An  outrage What  hath  he 

done?"  he  exclaimed. 

The  constable  standing  quietly  by,  beruffed  and 
periwigged,  upheld  his  staff  and  watched  with  long- 
drawn  face  the  merciless  humour  of  the  crowd, 
loath  to  set  a  period  to  the  reward  of  crime.  Jacob 
Munch,  a  grin  half  born  upon  his  smug  features, 
was  making  ready  to  aim  a  mud-splashed  apple  he 
had  picked  up  from  the  pavement. 

"  'Tis  more  than  an  hour  since  the  Lecture  !  Did 
the  law  decree  these  men  be  killed  ?  Why  are  they 
not  released?"  Roger  spoke  with  a  force  that 
brought  an  angry  murmur  from  those  who  liked  not 
their  sport  condemned.  Jacob  Munch  dropped  his 
apple. 

"Captain  Verring  hath  a  great  compassion  on 
thieves  and  malefactors, "  he  said  to  the  starched 
citizen  who  stood  beside  him. 

The  constable,  dangling  his  iron  keys,  moved 
slowly  in  the  direction  of  the  platform.  The  east 
wind  came  strongly  from  the  water,  and  the  cold 
November  dusk  was  settling  fast. 

While  the  others  had  sought  the  pillory-gazing 
throng,  the  Maid  had  turned  into  an  alley  and  es- 
caped the  multitude  in  the  wider  streets.  Faces 
peeped  curiously  from  small-paned  windows  as  she 
approached,  and  from  one  house  set  back  among  the 
apple  trees  a  sash  was  swung  out  upon  its  hinges 
while  a  head  thrust  itself  forth  to  see  who  passed 
and  whither. 

"La — she  be  going  by  the  Old  Way!  Who  is 
she,  Ma'am  ? "  a  voice  said  wonderingly. 

The  Mill  Pond  was  dark  and  the  willow  leaves 


292  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

blown  thickly  in  her  path.  At  the  one  bent  down 
camel- wise  to  the  bank  she  paused,  and  laying  her 
silk-mitted  hand  lightly  upon  its  upright  fellow, 
looked  about  her  with  delight. 

When  she  moved  away,  she  drew  a  deep  breath 
of  the  clean  air  and  gazed  backward  as  if  loath  to  go, 
breaking  off  a  bunch  of  red  berries  from  a  bush  be- 
side the  path. 

The  Old  Way  was  hid  by  its  wild  hedge  from  the 
view  of  the  curious,  and  as  she  went  she  lifted  the 
wide,  flowing  skirts  daintily  and  slipped  her  high- 
arched  shoes  with  a  pleasant  rustling  through  the 
fallen  leaves,  smiling  at  a  grey  squirrel  that  ran 
down  a  tree  trunk,  gave  her  a  twinkling  glance, 
and  fled  like  thistle-down. 

Again  in  the  street  she  moved  with  a  decorous 
step,  but  swiftly  lest  the  day  be  gone  before  she 
should  come  to  her  own  door.  The  wind  brought 
to  her  the  salt  of  the  sea  and  the  burned  smell  of 
autumn.  Her  eyes  still  smiled  and  her  step  was 
light  upon  the  broken  flagging. 

All  at  once  an  excited  group  blocked  her  way, 
boys  in  a  close  and  excited  knot,  wrangling,  ges- 
ticulating over  some  object  on  the  ground.  She 
would  have  made  a  detour  and  so  avoided  them, 
had  another  sound  not  arrested  her,  a  sound  dis- 
stinct  from  the  suppressed  cries  and  quarrelling  of 
the  lads. 

At  her  approach  the  largest  boy  straightened 
himself  and  she  saw  what  was  the  occupation  that 
so  engaged  them.  In  a  miniature  pillory  hung  a 
struggling  black  kitten,  its  head  and  forepaws 
dragged  through  rude  holes  in  an  oaken  board  that 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  293 

was  nailed  across  two  supports  driven  firmly  into 
the  earth  beside  the  path. 

The  largest  boy  bent  forward  again,  trying  to 
force  a  mammoth  pin  through  the  kitten's  ear  into 
the  hard  wood  behind.  The  flesh  had  torn,  but  the 
oak  would  not  yield.  Now,  a  stone  in  his  right 
hand,  he  battered  at  the  pin  and  it  held  fast.  The 
kitten  was  choking. 

With  a  cry  of  anger  the  girl  sprang  to  the  tor- 
tured animal  and  lifted  it,  pillory  and  all,  in  her 
arms. 

"Ye  little  brutes!"  The  eyes  that  had  smiled 
were  scornful  and  flashing  as  she  confronted  them. 

The  stakes  had  not  yielded  without  force,  but  so 
strong  was  her  wrath  a  single  effort  had  wrenched 
them  free.  The  boys,  fleeing  at  her  sudden  on- 
slaught, slunk  hurriedly  to  a  distance  and  stood 
eying  her  sullenly,  expecting  more  than  words. 

Shubael  Munch  was  the  first  to  venture  near. 

"  'Tis  a  witch-cat — 'tis  black, "  he  cried  out  in 
warning.  "  Put  it  down,  Mistress  Armitage  ! " 

"  She's  a  witch  herself, "  shrieked  the  largest  boy 
wrathfully.  "  My  mother  says  she's  a  witch.  " 

"A  witch  !  A  witch  !"  yelled  the  pack,  rallying 
to  their  leader's  cry. 

"She's  not  a  witch,"  screamed  Shubael.  "I 
know  her She's  not  a  witch.  " 

"  She  is,  I  say.  A  witch  !  A  witch  ! — Pelt  her  ! 
'Tis  her  cat — 'Tis  the  witch's  cat!"  the  big  boy 
yelled.  He  had  struck  at  Shubael  with  the  stone 
still  in  his  hand,  and  then  hurled  the  weapon  furi- 
ously at  the  girl. 

The  momentary  dismay  was  over.     The  weight 


294  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

of  scorn  and  blazing  indignation  unfollowed  by  the 
retributive  potency  of  blows  could  not  impress  them 
long.  Shubael  fought  them  with  all  the  might  of 
his  little  fists.  A  woman  looked  from  an  open 
door,  but  hearing  the  cry,  "A  witch!"  shut  and 
barred  herself  within. 

The  Maid  covered  the  kitten  with  her  cape  and 
turned  her  back  to  the  youthful  mob  that  had  been 
greatly  reinforced  in  the  confusion. 

"Come,  Shubael,"  she  called,  but  Shubael  was 
stretched  on  the  ground  and  did  not  answer. 

Sticks,  pebbles,  stones — all  the  projectiles  the 
neighbourhood  afforded — fell  upon  her  pitilessly, 
but  she  wheeled  to  look  for  the  lad,  rousing  him 
by  her  call. 

"Come,  Shubael,  "  she  cried  again. 

"A  witch  !     Beat  the  witch  ! " 

The  pack  were  in  full  cry  and  they  no  longer  con- 
tented themselves  with  missiles,  but  pursued,  armed 
with  heavier  cudgels. 

Shubael  had  gotten  upon  his  feet.  With  him  she 
turned  again  and  fled.  She  was  swift,  but  the  wind 
twisting  her  gown,  held  her  back  relentlessly.  At 
the  corner  of  Wing  lane  the  foremost  had  his  clutch 
upon  its  silken  folds,  his  cudgel  raised  high  to  strike, 
when  he  was  lifted  in  a  vigorous  grasp  and  flung 
back  yelping  among  his  comrades.  His  sudden 
arrest  and  the  shock  of  his  descent  shook  the  breath 
from  the  would-be  zealot,  and  the  chase  drew  off. 

The  frenzied  shouts  of  the  urchins  had  carried  in 
spite  of  the  wind,  but  against  the  increasing  violence 
of  the  blast  they  had  sounded  to  Roger  like  cries 
for  help. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  295 

The  Maid  was  silent,  trembling,  and  bewildered 
at  the  fanatic  fury  of  the  assault.  Mr.  Godfrey 
observed  the  group  from  the  other  side  of  the  street. 

He  saw  the  girl  hold  up  some  object  like  a  yoke, 
fastened  to  a  writhing  kitten,  and  saw  Roger  take  it 
and  set  to  work  to  get  the  animal  free.  The  lad, 
crying  with  rage,  was  battling  with  his  unruly 
breath.  His  clothes  were  torn  and  one  eye  sur- 
mounted by  a  dismal  patch. 

"  Shubael  fought  them  for  me.  "  Temple  smiled 
down  at  the  boy  with  a  glance  that  dried  his  tears 
and  flushed  his  cheeks  with  happy  pride. 

"Shubael  is  the  bravest  lad  in  Boston,"  began 
Roger.  "  I  wish " 

The  child  became  radiant,  though  the  Maid  had 
interrupted. 

"  You  will  have  to  cut  it  out.  They  have  hurt  its 
head  pushing  it  through  the  hole, "  she  said. 

"Can  you — are  you  enough  recovered  to  hold  it 
quiet  while  I  cut  away  the  wood  ? "  Roger  looked  at 
her  anxiously  and  his  look  brought  back  her  colour. 

She  wrapped  her  cape  about  the  kitten's  paws 
and  took  it  with  a  reassuring  touch.  It  turned  its 
yellow  eyes  up  at  her  with  an  earnest  gaze  of  ques- 
tioning patience,  and  the  scurrying  speed  of  its 
frightened  heart  grew  less. 

With  the  point  of  his  hunting  knife  Roger  care- 
fully chipped  out  the  hole.  Shubael  helped,  his 
eyes  shining  with  satisfaction,  as  he  clamped  his 
bruised  hands  tightly  upon  the  board. 

"Do  you  suppose  'tis  a  witch  cat?"  he  asked, 
staring  at  the  little  creature  timidly.  The  kitten 
was  watching  him  with  the  topaz  eyes,  full  enough 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 


of  gratitude  and  appeal  to  startle  a  child  who  had 
never  before  seen  a  cat  save  as  an  object  of  sport. 
The  look  seemed  to  Shubael  too  human  for  an  ani- 
mal. 

"  No,  Shubael,  he's  my  kitten  now,  and  I'm  not  a 
witch,  "  answered  the  girl.  "Though  they  did  call 
me  one.  Poor  pussy  —  what  I'm  to  do  with  you  I 
don't  know.  Madam  won't  have  a  kitten  near  her 
dwelling.  She  hath  a  great  dislike  and  fear  of  cats, 
above  all  of  them  that  be  black.  "  She  rubbed  the 
little  creature's  head  softly  as  she  talked. 

"I  can  care  for  him,  if  you'll  trust  him  to  me," 
Roger  replied.  He  had  put  up  his  knife  and  taken 
the  board  from  Shubael.  "  Now,  pussy  —  pull,  "  he 
said. 

Shubael  left  them,  hastening  to  forestall  the 
double  punishment  of  truancy  and  the  tearing  of 
Sunday  clothes.  As  he  started,  he  put  out  his  hand 
tentatively  and  rubbed  the  kitten's  head  as  Temple 
had  done.  The  released  captive  was  boiling  and 
bubbling  songfully  within  his  black  throat. 

"He's  glad,  isn't  he!"  the  boy  said,  unaccus- 
tomed laughter  breaking  over  his  round  face. 

As  the  sturdy,  anxious  legs  disappeared,  running 
with  fear  to  spur  their  energy,  the  Maid  set  straight 
her  hat  and  moved  onward  beside  Roger.  In  the 
weeks  that  had  divided  the  night  in  the  stockade 
from  her  return  to  Boston  she  had  not  seen  him. 
But  twice  Roger  had  seen  her,  and  more  than  twice 
he  had  been  to  Andover.  On  each  visit  he  had  con- 
ferred with  Bozoun  Plimly. 

Through  Bozoun  's  aid  a  new  element  of  safety 
had  been  introduced  into  the  dwelling,  Nopomuk, 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  297 

who  had  remained  with  Captain  Phips,  to  water  the 
roses  in  my  Lady's  garden  in  summer  and  all  the 
year  to  drive  the  chestnut  pair  that  drew  her  car- 
riage to  and  from  the  great  house  in  Green  lane. 

Roger  and  Lady  Phips  had  first  conceived  the 
plan,  and  the  Governor  had  summoned  the  one- 
time diver  and  put  before  him  the  peril  of  the  Little 
Maid  and  the  need  of  secrecy.  The  eyes  of  the 
Southern  Indian  had  softened  like  an  eager  child's. 

So  it  was  that  Bozoun  had  demanded  help  for  the 
harvesting  and  sent  a  messenger  to  Boston  when 
Sir  John,  after  a  heated  contest  as  to  the  wages  of 
the  labourer,  had  given  his  consent. 

"Mistress  Armitage  seemed  much  moved  at  the 
red  man's  appearing, "  Bozoun  had  stated  at  his 
next  report.  "  I  doubt  not  the  damsel  hath  seen 
him  driving  my  Lady's  chariot.  But  none  may 
guess  what  passes  in  a  woman's  mind,  leastways 
not  with  her  if  Sir  John  or  Madam  or  Sir  Humphrey 
be  about.  I  do  opine,  however,  she  hath  remarked  I 
keep  a  watch  upon  her,  and  seemeth  not  ill  pleased. 
Sir  John  careth  for  little  but  his  food  and  the  gold 

he  hopeth  to  gather  from  this  season's  crop So 

now  the  Amalekite  hath  all  things  his  own  way,  for 
Madam  dotes  upon  him.  He  is  ever  about  the 
Maid  and  if  she  take  him  not  I  fear  he  will  hang 
himself.  You  need  fear  naught  from  him  save  a 
kidnapping,  for  'tis  sure  he  favoureth  the  maiden. 
And  if  thou'lt  wait  here  I'll  get  a  bunch  of  herbs  I 
promised  Goodwife  Bolt.  Canst  carry  them?" 

Even  Bozoun,  astute  in  wood  lore  and  shrewd 
enough  for  most  men,  was  hoodwinked  then  by  the 
contradictions  of  Sir  Humphrey's  nature.  Roger 


298  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

had  set  two  sentinels  to  guard  the  Maid's  life.  The 
greater  danger  he  could  not  avert,  that  she  might 
trust,  might  even  love,  Sir  Humphrey.  It  was  ever 
a  wonder  to  him  how  the  weeks  went  by  at  all  and 
left  him  sane,  for  even  in  retrospect  they  stretched 
endlessly  in  aeons  of  wretchedness. 

He  would  not  question  Bozoun,  and  he  had  heard 
the  little  that  the  man-of-all-work  vouchsafed  with 
a  sense  of  distress,  born  partly  of  an  unreasonable 
dread  of  spying,  and  partly  of  a  distaste  to  hear  an- 
other speak  of  her. 

Now  Nopomuk  was  back  again  driving  the  horses 
of  the  Governor,  and  the  Maid  had  learned  that  very 
day  at  whose  instance  the  Indian  had  been  sent  to 
guard  her  in  the  woods.  Lady  Phips  had  hinted  at 
no  danger  but  the  fear  of  Nipmucks,  being  rarely 
discreet.  One  thing  the  Maid  knew  that  Lady 
Phips  did  not,  Bozoun  being  also  wise  in  the  times 
to  betray  a  secret  to  the  one  concerned,  and  making 
some  chance  of  converse  when  she  had  said  farewell. 

As  they  walked,  although  her  body  still  trembled 
from  the  sudden  attack,  her  mind  had  already  for- 
gotten it  to  dwell  on  other  things.  Roger's  anger 
had  grown  hotter,  and  shame  filled  him  that  in  his 
city  she  should  suffer  such  brutality. 

"  'Tis  what  comes  of  taking  children  to  the  hang- 
ings and  setting  them  to  stone  the  poor  creatures 
in  the  pillory !  They  are  no  better  than  wild 
beasts  !"  He  spoke  with  a  vehement  suppression. 

"They  should  be What  welcome  to  Boston 

for  you  after  so  long  an  absence  ! " 

"They  are  not  Boston,"  the  girl  answered. 
"  There  be  rough  and  savage  lads  even  in  London! 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  299 

Boston  is  for  me  the  Governor  and  Lady  Phips — 
my  friends. " 

"  'Tis  many  months  since  you  were  here.  I  had 
hoped  Sir  John  would  bring  you  back  earlier.  "  He 
attempted  to  settle  the  kitten  that  was  climbing 
from  its  refuge. 

"And  yet  you  came  but  once  to  see  us,  though 
you  were  hunting  not  far  away — more  than  once, " 
the  girl  replied.  "  Here,  wind  this  scarf  about  the 
kitten's  paws.  Then  he  will  stay.  " 

Roger  obeyed  her,  answering  her  first  words. 

"  I  saw  you  one  day  at  the  river  gate — and  again 
with  Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass  at  the  spring. " 

"  I  went  there  but  once.  Sir  Humphrey  taunted 
me  with  womanish  fondness  for  the  scene  of  an  ad- 
venture, and  I  went  no  more.  How  long  before 
Governor  Phips  will  return  ? "  she  asked.  "  Is  it  so 
important  Pemaquid  be  fortified  ? " 

"  'Tis  most  important,  "  Roger  answered  prompt- 
ly. "It  commands  a  region  that  hath  endured 
much  from  hostile  tribes  of  the  North.  'Twill  be 
the  saving  of  many  lives.  I  should  be  with  the 
expedition,  but  Sir  William  refused  me. " 

"Lady  Phips  told  me.  He  needed  tried  men  at 
home  to  watch  the  interests  of  the  colony,  and  to 
defend  us  if  there  be  outbreak  here. "  The  Maid 
looked  up,  a  light  of  admiration  in  her  glance,  that 
the  dusk  hid.  "You  are  young,  Captain  Verring, 
to  have  so  much  entrusted  to  you.  They  say  you 
were  offered  a  place  on  the  Commission  to  try  the 
witches.  I  am  glad  you  would  not  take  it. " 

"I  could  not.  Mr.  Saltonstall  hath  resigned, 
being  unwilling  to  go  on  with  trials  that  convict  all 


300  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

who  will  not  confess.  Even  a  dog  hath  been  con- 
demned. "  He  smiled  faintly,  falling  grave  again 
at  once. 

"Could  you  have  helped — such  men  as  you  and 
Mr.  Saltonstall  ? " 

"Nay — he  had  no  effect,  and  I  should  have  been 
scouted  for  my  youth — and  five  can  outvote  two.  " 
He  drew  a  long  breath  as  if  the  subject  weighed 
much  upon  his  thoughts. 

"There  is  such  fear  in  the  very  air!"  The  girl 
moved  unconsciously  nearer  as  she  spoke. 

"Men  are  beside  themselves.  Them  that  be 
silent  are  feared  for  their  silence  and  them  that  talk 
for  their  'much  speaking', "  Roger  answered.  In 
their  tones  was  the  confidence  of  those  who  utter 
themselves  with  an  unwonted  freedom.  "I  would 
it  were  over.  The  whole  world  seemeth  possessed, " 
he  went  on.  '  'Tis  a  melancholy  greeting  for  you 
to  hear  but  tales  of  sorrow  and  affright. " 

He  harked  back  to  her,  the  troubled  disquiet 
still  in  his  tone.  His  look  graver  yet,  with  the 
yearning  of  one  powerless  to  defend  the  loved 
from  evil,  gazed  on  her  for  a  moment  steadfastly. 
In  the  shadows  of  the  growing  dark  he  could  not  see 
the  brave  glow  that  answered  the  look  and  the  sud- 
den shining  of  the  dark  eyes  turned  to  his  own. 

"There  was  dread  in  the  loneliness  of  Andover — 
though  that  was  only  fear  of  men  and  of  wild  beasts. 
But  the  fear  of  friends" — she  dropped  her  voice, 
"and  so  many  poor  creatures  in  great  suffering  and 
torment !  Oh  no  wonder  there  is  panic  !  But  I  am 
glad  to  be  in  Boston,"  she  said  quickly,  and  her 
voice  that  had  almost  a  note  of  gay  content  laughed 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  301 

above  the  strong  quiet  of  a  wordless  peace,  a 
peace  that  held  them  both  in  the  security  of  un- 
affrighted  happiness. 

"Hath  Lady  Phips  told  you  of  the  scandal  the 
Governor  created  ere  he  went  away?"  Roger's 
tone  had  lightened  cheerfully.  "  'Twas  a  fort- 
night's wonder !  There  be  some  who  suffer  from 
it  yet!" 

"Nay,  tell  me!  What  did  he  do?"  asked  the 
Maid  contentedly. 

"  He  gave  a  mighty  dinner  to  all  the  ship  carpen- 
ters of  Boston  and  made  no  less  display  for  them 
than  for  the  Council !  Oh,  'twas  a  most  grievous 
scandal!"  Roger  laughed,  and  felt  that  she 
laughed  too. 

"  I  like  it  of  him,  "  she  said. 

Their  talk  dwelt  on  nothing  more  remarkable, 
but  when  he  left  her,  it  was  to  walk  still  in  the 
blessed  air  where  her  invisible  presence  did  not  for- 
sake him. 

Once  voices  harsh  enough  to  force  their  way  into 
this  excluding  sense  of  joy  brought  to  him  a 
painful  realization  of  something  without  this  better 
consciousness. 

' '  She  is  a  witch !  and  hath  Shubael  as  well  as 
Jacob  in  her  wicked  spell ! "  It  was  the  high  voice 
of  Mistress  Munch  raised  in  a  scolding  fury. 

"Nay,  I'll  speak  as  I  please, "  the  voice  rose  still 
higher  in  wrath  at  some  interruption.  "Look  at 
the  child — look  at  him,  fighting  and  brawling  like  a 
mud-scallion — and  his  clothes  that  I  made  myself 

all  ruined  by  this Nay,  I  say,  I  care  not.  They 

can  hear  who  will !  An'  Christopher  doth  not  flog 


302  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

him  well  each  time  he  speak  to  her,  I'll  do't  myself. 
And  I'd  flog  Jacob,  too,  were  I  a  man — moping 
after  a  witch,  a " 

"  Mistress  Armitage  isn't  a  witch,  Mam  ! 

Canst  flog  me  all  thou  wilt "  Shubael's  voice, 

broken  with  pain  of  many  lashes,  was  dauntless  as 
timid  voices  are  when  roused  to  battle. 

Across  the  way,  at  the  Sign  of  the  Orange  Tree, 
Sir  Humphrey  heard ;  and  gazing  from  his  window, 
saw  Roger  return  as  he  had  seen  him  go.  He  stood 
a  long  time  thoughtful  before  he  turned  away,  and 
the  look  upon  his  face  was  not  all  malignance,  but 
mixed  with  a  certain  anger  more  human  and  more 
anxious. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  "POISONED  CHALICE" 

BEULAH  MUNCH  sat  sewing  by  the  window 
of  the  living  room.     Her  eyes  were  fixed  on 
the  band  she  was  felling  and  did  not  lift  to 
gaze  after    those  who  came  and  went  from  Tra- 
mount     street     to     Hannover.      The     settle    was 
drawn  between  her  and  the  fire.     By  the  window  it 
was  cold,  but  she  did  not  stir,  even  when  the  blaze 
dropped  to  scattered  coals  and  the  draught  blew  the 
ashes  of  the  wood  upon  their  fading  glow. 

Suddenly  her  impassivity  changed.  She  raised 
her  head,  looked  after  one  who  passed  without 
turning,  and  a  sound  escaped  her  lips.  With  a 
swift  motion  she  laid  her  work  aside.  In  the 
shortest  time  it  could  take  to  find  and  don  her 
bonnet  and  mantle  she  had  opened  the  door  and  was 
out  in  the  fresh  November  breeze. 

The  sun  was  bright  and  the  streets  seemed  warmer 
than  the  room  which  she  had  left.  Even  at  the 
shortest,  bonnet  and  mantle  had  taken  many 
minutes,  but  she  followed  quickly  the  direction 
of  the  figure  that  had  vanished,  pausing  only  to 
walk  more  sedately  as  she  came  nearer  the  yard 
of  the  Widow  Pullen's  house. 

Temple  Armitage  was  without,  among  the  flower 
beds.  In  her  hand  was  a  mass  of  the  late  asters, 
white,  and  purple,  and  streaked  with  pink  tints  on 

303 


3o4  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

a  snowy  ground.  The  warmth  that  seldom  left  her 
cheeks  had  deepened  while  she  talked.  Roger, 
leaning  upon  the  unpainted  dial,  was  listening  and 
as  she  finished  the  tale  she  told,  both  laughed, 
the  silent  laughter  of  those  who  understand  each 
other  well,  and  their  eyes  met  an  instant  in  a  volun- 
tary interchange  of  pleasant  comprehension.  Then 
she  bent  suddenly  to  the  unplucked  asters  at 
her  feet  and  Beulah,  pausing  at  the  gate,  saw  the 
look  that  watched  the  Maid,  fallen  upon  the  spot 
where  the  soft  blackness  of  the  hair  made  fairer 
the  fairness  of  the  neck. 

"Come  in,  Mistress  Munch.."  If  Temple  were 
not  best  pleased  none  could  guess  it  from  the  wel- 
come. 

Beulah  tightened  her  lips,  spoiling  the  redness 
of  her  childish  mouth. 

"I'm  afraid  I  interrupt,"  she  answered.     "Two 

they  say 

'  'Tis  indeed  pity  to  expose  a  solitary  maiden  to 
the  influence  of  two  such  Puritans!"  Temple 
shook  her  head.  "  I  fear  the  Widow  Pullen  was  of 
a  frivolous  mind  like  me !  See  how  brazenly  her 
flowers  come  forth  ! " 

When  Roger  left  them  a  half-hour  was  nigh  spent. 

"  If  you  go  now  I  shall  be  sure  you  are  angered  at 
having  your  pretty  speeches  interrupted, "  Beulah 
had  pleaded. 

"If  Captain  Verring  were  angered  by  interrup- 
tion he  hath  already  undergone  good  discipline," 
the  Maid  had  responded.  "I  am  a  most  ill-condi- 
tioned hearer  ever  marred  a  man's  best  period  !" 

When  at  length  Roger  had  forced  himself  away, 


THE   COAST  OF   FREEDOM  305 

the  task  had  grown  no  easier.  He  would  have  pre- 
ferred Beulah  had  not  come,  but  the  presence  of 
that  inferior  world  that  was  not  Temple  Armitage 
was  of  too  little  moment  ever  to  destroy  his  en- 
joyment. 

Beulah  had  shown  to  better  advantage  after  her 
greeting.  It  was  hard  to  harbour  self-consciousness 
or  meanness  with  Temple  near.  But  the  for- 
lornness  of  her  mood  increased  as  its  bitterness, 
lessened. 

The  charm  of  Roger  Verring's  manner,  so  far  re- 
moved from  the  pious  bluntness  of  her  father,  that 
covered  a  selfish  disregard  of  others'  rights,  so  dif- 
ferent from  the  sleek  oiliness  of  Jacob,  appealed  to 
her  with  new  force.  Once  more  her  thoughts  con- 
trasted Jacob's  unkindness  with  Roger's  remem- 
bered devotion  to  his  mother.  The  clairvoyance  of 
her  own  feeling  made  it  plain  to  her  how  strong  was 
the  power  that  was  drawing  together  this  stranger 
and  the  man  she  had  loved  ever  since  she  had  been 
old  enough  to  see  that  he  was  handsomer  and  finer 
than  the  lads  she  knew. 

Roger  had  never  singled  her  out  for  even  a  pass- 
ing interest,  but  till  now  no  other  had  appeared 
whom  she  thought  more  likely  to  secure  what  she 
had  determined  should  be  her  own.  If  the  position 
of  the  Verrings  and  the  sense  of  something  lacking 
in  that  accorded  the  Munches  had  added  ambition 
to  her  love,  it  would  be  hard  to  separate  the  more 
worldly  fibres  from  the  glittering  fabric  woven  by  a 
stronger  wish. 

Beulah 's  was  not  a  religious  nature,  and  she  had 
found  no  comfort  in  the  simulated  ecstasies  of  her 


3o6  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

faith.  What  in  Jacob  became  a  coarse  hypocrisy 
was  in  her  a  simple  acquiescence.  The  shallow 
jealousies  and  the  vulgar  complacency  of  her  pa- 
rents, the  mother's  pettiness  and  the  father's  hec- 
toring, arbitrary  will,  had  hardened  in  her  into  a 
silent  tenacity  more  subtle  and  more  deadly.  In 
the  confining  duties  of  a  world  where  marriage  was 
the  beginning  and  the  end,  and  where  the  pickling 
of  fruits  and  the  brewing  of  cordials  was  the  highest 
form  of  incense  to  be  offered  to  the  gods,  it  was 
scarce  probable  that  a  soul  like  this  one  would  create 
for  itself  resources,  or  that  the  single  feeling  that 
gave  life  to  an  otherwise  heavy  character  would  do 
more  than  afford  a  channel  for  the  outpouring  of  a 
supreme  self-absorption. 

For  Beulah  the  world  contained  herself  and  Roger 
and,  more  remotely,  those  who  would  envy  her 
when  she  had  made  him  hers.  Her  clinging  and 
dependence  were  a  manner  acquired  with  the  ease 
whereby  we  fit  ourselves  to  an  ideal  society  holds 
before  our  eyes,  and  never  a  part  of  her  true  self. 
She  needed  no  one,  felt  no  claim,  no  devotions,  save 
for  Roger.  To  secure  him,  not  for  his  happiness 
but  hers,  she  would  have  sacrificed  all  others  with- 
out a  qualm  and,  to  her  mind  armed  with  the  unwit- 
ting egotism  of  the  truly  selfish,  no  surrender  of  her 
determination  would  even  have  presented  itself 
as  possible. 

The  return  of  Temple  to  Boston  had  brought  with 
it  a  renewal  of  jealous  uneasiness,  or  she  would  not 
have  followed  Roger  to  the  door  of  the  Widow  Pul- 
len  with  an  impulsive  haste  foreign  to  her  usual 
more  quiet  calculation.  For  the  first  time  she  had 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  307 

realized   how   far   beyond   her  reach   events   had 
carried  the  fulfilment  of  her  plans. 

After  Roger's  farewell,  she  answered  abstractedly 
and  went  after  the  Maid  with  downcast  eyes  as  the 
two  girls  mounted  the  stairs  to  the  square  room 
where  the  crisp  breeze  rustled  the  valences  about 
the  curtained  bed. 

It  was  Temple's  chamber  and  it  brought  another 
pang  to  the  unhappy  Beulah.  She  did  not  hold 
Mistress  Armitage  as  her  superior,  save  in  the  mat- 
ter of  owning  a  great  number  of  jewels  that  she 
seldom  had  the  sense  to  wear,  but  she  recognized 
here,  as  in  the  simpler  ease  of  Temple's  manner,  a 
something  she  felt  sure  would  seem  to  Roger  su- 
perior. Her  eyes  travelled  from  the  quaint  en- 
gravings on  the  wall  to  the  books, which  lay  upon  the 
table  instead  of  sitting  bolt  upright  in  undisturbed 
fixity  of  pose,  and  she  turned  from  both  with  a 
prim  distaste  to  let  her  gaze  seek  the  wide  mirror. 

"  'Tis  grown  cold, "  she  said  with  a  little  shiver, 
her  plump  hands  busying  themselves  with  untying 
her  bonnet  and  curling  closer  over  a  wet  forefinger 
the  stray  locks  the  wind  had  blown  awry. 

Temple,  going  straight  to  the  deep  fireplace,  had 
set  some  pine  sticks  ablaze  beneath  the  logs. 

"I  will  shut  the  windows  till  the  room  be  warmer," 
she  said.  "Was  it  the  things  come  by  the  Pello- 
quin  you  meant  ? " 

"  Goodwife  Bolt  said  you  got  a  full  chest  from  the 
ship,"  Beulah  answered  with  more  interest.  "I 
thought  to  send  myself  by  the  next  packet.  " 

The  Little  Maid  had  closed  the  windows,  not 
without  a  longing  breath  of  the  clear  coldness  of 


308  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

the  air,  and  the  big  fire  sent  a  too  ardent  heat  upon 
them. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  in  these  days  ? "  she 
asked  with  pleasant  heartiness  as  she  knelt  before 
the  carven  monsters  of  a  chest. 

Her  visitor  watched  in  silence  as  the  deep  lower 
drawer  slid  forward  and  the  cambric  cover  was 
lifted  from  the  contents.  On  the  very  top  lay  a 
silk,  pale  green  and  changeable,  with  a  mere  shift- 
ing light  of  pink,  and  here  and  there  a  tumbling 
rosebud  in  the  folds. 

The  purring  0  that  was  ever  Mistress  Munch's 
first  word  at  the  sight  of  uncut  silks  did  not  come, 
and  Temple  glanced  upward,  surprised. 

The  soft  pinkness  of  Beulah's  skin  was  darkly 
suffused  and  her  eyes  were  full.  As  Mistress  Ar- 
mitage  looked  up,  the  tears  fell  and  rained  thickly 
down  the  reddened  cheeks. 

Temple  sprang  to  her  feet  swiftly,  a  wonderful 
compassion  softening  the  warm  brilliance  of  her 
beauty. 

She  put  an  arm  gently  around  the  weeping  girl 
and  drew  her  down  beside  her  on  the  cushioned 
window  seat. 

"  What  is  it,  Beulah  ?  Tell  me  " — her  voice  had 
the  comforting  life  that  trouble  longs  to  hear — 
"what  has  grieved  thee,  child?" 

The  words  Captain  Phips  had  said  to  her  so  long 
ago !  She  grew  gentler  still,  with  the  recollection. 

Beulah  slid  out  of  the  encircling  arm,  upon  the 
floor,  and  buried  her  face  in  the  cushions.  Temple 
laid  a  fine  hand  softly  on  the  elaborately  mounted 
hair  and  waited. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  309 

"I'm — I'm  afraid  to  tell  you  what  it  is. "  Beu- 
lah  moved  still  farther  away.  But  the  gentle  hand 
slipped  to  her  shoulder  and  she  turned  back  sud- 
denly, her  arms  about  Temple's  waist,  her  wet, 
blue  eyes  gazing  up  anxiously. 

"Oh,  I  can't!"  she  gasped,  but  this  time  she 
dropped  her  head  in  Temple's  lap  and  cried  there 
more  quietly. 

"How  can  you  fear  to  tell  me,  Beulah?"  The 
Maid  had  dropped  her  rarely  used  thou  of  affection 
and  her  voice  was  graver,  though  none  the  less  com- 
passionate. "  Perhaps  it  is  something  wherein  I 
could  help,  my  child. "  A  certainty  that  it  was 
something  painful  for  herself,  a  sense  of  the  essen- 
tial weakness  of  the  crying  girl,  was  in  the  gravity 
and  the  gentleness. 

"  If  thou  wouldst  only  take  thy  spell  from  Jacob  ! 
'Tis  making  him  ill — he  hardly  eats  at  all — and 
yesternoon  he  would  not  touch  his  pudding  and  he 
left  the  meers  cakes  my  mother  brought  for  him  at 

bed  time If  he  should  die Oh,  if  thou 

didst  not  want  him  why  put  the  spell  upon  him  ? " 

Temple  sat  erect  suddenly,  her  breath  held  with 
the  shock  of  sharp  displeasure.  Beulah's  words 
offended  much  that,  in  her  nature,  was  sacredly 
guarded  from  discussion.  But  after  a  minute's 
waiting  she  spoke  again,  still  gently. 

"Beulah,"  her  voice  was  very  low  and  rich, 
"  your  brother  will  not  die.  If  he  hath  a  liking  for 
me  that  is  more  than  mere  kindness  I  am  more 
grieved  than  thou.  I  never  wished  it.  I  have  ever 
shown — I  have  been,  so  you  yourself  have  said, 
even  careless  of  courtesy  to  him. " 


3io  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"  But  Mother  says  that  is  the  way  of  all  coquettes 
— he  but  admires  the  more.  'Twas  ever  the  way 
to  make  Jacob  want  a  thing  to  show  him  it  dis- 
pleased you  he  should  try  for  it, "  put  in  Beulah 
eagerly. 

"  Your  mother  may  be  right  concerning  the  ways 
of  coquettes — but  I  have  never  been  aught  but 
truthful  with  your  brother.  "  Temple  rose,  leaving 
her  accuser  whimpering  softly  among  the  cushions. 
A  righteous  anger  took  the  softness  from  her  eyes 
and  she  paced  up  and  down  twice  before  she  trusted 
herself  to  say  more. 

'  I  think,"  she  added  presently,  "your  brother 
hath  been  much  used  to  having  his  own  will,  and 
doth  not  easily  understand  his  wishes  might  be  un- 
pleasing  to  another. " 

Beulah  rose  also,  her  cheeks  reddening  again, 
defiantly. 

"And  why  shouldn't  he  expect  what  he  wants  !" 
she  demanded  angrily.  "There  is  no  young  man 
more  sought  after.  There  be  plenty  to  take  him. 
'Tis  not  that  he  is  unpleasing  that  he  suffers,  but 
thou  hast  put  a  spell  on  him.  How  can  he  let  thee 
be  till  thou  art  through  tormenting  him?  Even 
Shubael  thou  hast  bewitched  so  every  day  the 
poor  child  must  be  beaten  because  he " 

"Beulah!"  Beulah  stopped  short  and  cowered 
into  the  window,  although  Temple's  voice  was  not 
raised  and  she  had  not  stirred  from  where  she 
stood. 

"Why  is  Shubael  beaten  because  he  loves  his 
friends,  and  what  have  I  to  do  with  your  brother 
that  you  talk  of  my  releasing  him  ?  'Tis  I  would  be 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  311 

released  from  his  ill-thought-of  importunities. 
'Tis  his  vanity  suffers — not  himself.  He  will  soon 
forget  me.  What  could  I  do  more  than  I  have 
done?" 

"  Thou  speak'st  as  if  thou  hadst  known  him  long. 
Where  was't  he  saw  thee  first?"  demanded  the 
sister.  "  He  says  he  knew  thee  well  long  since  and 
thou  wast  greatly  taken  up  with  him.  I've  told 
him  thou  wilt  none  of  him.  Temple  Armitage 
holdeth  herself  for  higher  game — though  for  that, 
the  family  of  Nicolas  Verring  is  no  richer  and  no 
honester  than  his " 

Beulah's  voice  had  ri^en  to  the  scolding  note  of 
her  mother's, 

The  flash  in  Temple's  eyes  darkened  and  from  her 
full  height  she  looked  down  upon  the  hysterical 
girl  who  was  venting  the  stored-up  poison  of  her 
brooding  malice. 

"You  forget  that  the  door  is  open,  Beulah.  I 
would  not  have  Madam  Chanterell  judge  you  by 
such  words.  For  your  brother,  I  will  avoid  your 
house  and  make  it  plainer,  if  that  be  possible,  that  I 
do  not  desire  his  company.  Nor  do  I  see  why  your 
brother's  folly  should  give  you  the  right  to  insult 
or  rail  at  me.  " 

There  was  a  strength  in  her  directness,  in  the 
dignity  of  her  carefully  curbed  anger,  in  her  evident 
repulsion  tor  a  scene,  that  had  its  effect.  Beulah's 
tight  lips  sneered,  the  hectic  colour  burned  more 
brightly  on  her  cheeks,  but  she  spoke  in  lower  tones. 

"  Then  you  will  not  release  him  ? "  she  persisted. 
"Nor  Shubael?" 

"What  do  you  mean?"     Temple  looked  at  her 


3i2  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

with  frank  amazement,  her  anger  yielding  to  the 
fear  that  the  girl  was  crazed.  "What  more  can  I 
do  ?  'Tis  not  in  my  power  to  control  your  brother's 
mind. " 

"  It  is — you  know  it  is — you  are  a  witch !  All 
men  say  you  are  a  witch,  even  Sir  Humphrey  Wild- 
glass.  'Tis  Satan  gives  you  power.  You  have 
taken  Jacob  and  Shubael  and  made  my  home  a  hell 
of  strife  and  quarrelling,  and  now  you  have  taken 

Roger Only  the  Devil  himself  could  have  taken 

him  from  me.  He  has  belonged  to  me  all  his  life — 
and  I  cannot  live  without  him — I  loved  him  long 

before  you  ever  saw  him He  is  mine " 

The  spotted  cheeks,  the  furious  passion  in  eyes  that 
were  no  more  alive  at  most  times  than  blue  yarn, 
was  painful  to  see,  like  the  death  agony  of  some 
gay- winged  insect,  writhing  and  gleaming  brighter 
for  the  sun  on  its  misery.  "  He  will  be  mine  if  thou'lt 

release  him Let  him  go !  When  thou'rt 

hanged  on  Gallows  Hill  then  thou'lt  have  to  let  him 
go.  O,  let  him  go  and  I'll  plead  with  them  not  to 
hang  thee " 

She  put  out  her  hands  but  Temple  drew  herself 
taller,  her  face  grown  white,  her  straight  gaze  fixed 
upon  the  working  features,  as  if  she  tried  in  vain  to 
see  the  plump  and  helpless  creature  whose  depend- 
ence had  roused  her  tenderness. 

Beulah  retreated  from  the  gaze  and  flung  herself 
into  a  chair,  sobbing  pitiably  upon  the  arm. 

Temple  moved  to  the  window  and  her  eyes  wan- 
dered to  the  asters  bending  with  stiff  reluctance  in 
the  wind.  Twice  she  turned  as  if  to  ask  a  question 
and  each  time  closed  her  lips  more  firmly.  The 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  313 

fire  crackled,  and  scudding  clouds  blew  across  the 
sun.  The  leaves  whirled  up  and  fell  disconsolate. 

"O,  Temple,  pity  me.  I  am  so  wretched — I 
shall  die — I  don't  know  what  to  do — I  shall  die.  " 

The  scolding  voice  was  broken  into  hopeless, 
childish  weeping.  Beulah  had  crossed  the  space 
between  them  and  sat  upon  the  window  cushions, 
clinging  about  the  straight  figure  that  now  watched 
the  sky. 

The  fine  hand  was  again  laid  gently  upon  the 
bowed  head,  but  with  a  difference. 

"Bathe  your  eyes,  Beulah,  and  weep  no  more. 
Come,  "  the  Maid  said  quietly.  But  the  colour  had 
not  returned  to  her  cheeks. 

After  Beulah  had  gone,  she  went  back  to  her 
room  and  threw  wide  every  window.  The  wind 
whirled  through  in  a  mighty  draught  and  sent  her 
treasures  rattling  upon  the  floor.  Then  she  looked 
down  upon  the  flowers  vaguely,  drawing  the  clean 
air  deep,  as  if  she  could  never  be  cleansed  of  the 
past  hour. 

A  figure  upright,  moving  with  the  happy  strength 
of  those  who  are  afraid  of  nothing  because  hope 
has  bucklered  them,  passed  on  the  other  side  of  the 
way  and  glanced  up  quickly  to  the  open  windows. 

The  Maid's  eyes  dilated  suddenly  and  she  clasped 
her  hand  close  upon  her  throat. 

She  uttered  no  sound,  but  after  a  little,  closed 
the  windows  once  more  and  set  about  restoring  the 
fallen  knick-knacks.  When  Sir  Humphrey  came 
she  was  smiling  and  gracious,  but  once,  when  he 
was  speaking  in  a  strain  bolder  than  ever  before,  he 
found  she  was  not  listening,  and  setting  himself  to 


woo  her  strayed  attention  with  a  song,  he  watched 
covertly,  and  saw  the  look  that  settled  on  her  face, 
a  look  lonely,  full  of  a  desolate  amaze. 

But  the  look  was  gone  when  the  song  was  ended, 
and  watch  her  as  he  might  he  found  no  place  where 
her  finely  tempered  distance  was  vulnerable  to 
praise  or  sympathy. 

"Thy  pride  will  be  less  stiff  when  the  gallows 
waits  thee,  Mistress, "  he  said  softly  to  himself. 
"  Tis  question  which  were  sweeter,  conquest  or 
revenge — let  the  event  decide. " 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

THE    PEST 

THE  Governor's  horses  pranced  and  curvetted 
in  a  manner  to  make  proud  the  heart  of 
Nopomuk,  clad  in  new  livery,  and  driving 
Lady  Phips  and  Mistress  Armitage  to  Daniel 
Henchman's  book  shop  by  the  Town  House. 

Lady  Phips  was  puzzled  by  the  girl,  who  kept  the 
talk  resolutely  away  from  everyone  but  the  Gov- 
ernor and  refused  the  carriage  further  than  the  door 
of  the  low  building  where  Mr.  Mather's  pamphlets 
and  a  small  store  of  more  secular  treasures  tempted 
the  purse  of  the  bookish. 

There  was  a  light  snow  in  the  streets  and  the 
ground  was  frozen.  As  they  alighted  a  figure 
clothed  with  a  painstaking  regard  for  fashion 
emerged  from  the  Blue  Anchor  and  made  haste  to 
intercept  them.  Lady  Phips  extended  her  hand 
distantly  and  Jacob  Munch  bowed  over  it  with  too 
elaborate  an  air. 

"Come  to  see  me  soon  again,  Mistress  Armitage. 
It  comforts  me,  my  dear,  to  talk  of  my  anxiety.  " 

The  Governor's  wife  spoke  affectionately,  dis- 
missing the  young  man  by  a  careful  ignoring  of 
his  presence. 

Temple  answered  the  words  with  a  look  that 
lingered  many  days  in  Lady  Phips's  memory. 

"  I  will  come — gladly, "  she  said,  bowed  gravely 


316  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

and  finally  to  Jacob,  smiled  again  at  the  elder 
woman,  and  turned  away  to  walk  swiftly  toward 
her  home. 

Jacob  Munch  was  quickly  beside  her. 

"You  are  not  good  at  remembering  old  friends, 
Mistress, "  he  began  as  he  overtook  her. 

"  I  have  few  friends  in  Boston  save  her  I  have 
just  left, "  answered  the  girl.  The  coldness  of  her 
tone  was  edged  with  a  decision  that  roused  his  ire. 

"Why  do  you  flout  me?"  He  attacked  her 
angrily.  "  Is't  not  enough  you  must  belittle  me  to 
my  sister  that  you  also  put  affront  upon  me  in  the 
streets !" 

"It  seemeth  not,  Sir.  Your  vanity  presumes.  " 
She  would  have  passed  him,  but  he  was  obstinate. 

"  You'd  not  hold  me  so  cheap  belike,  "  he  retorted 
with  an  ugly  threat  in  his  oafish  face,  "were  I  to 
make  the  town  a  wasp  nest  for  your  friend  the  Gov- 
ernor!" Then,  as  she  looked  at  him  more  coldly 
still,  "Sir  William  be  none  too  well  liked  now. 
'Twould  make  a  fine  tale,  that  of  the  Araby  Rose — 
the  witch's  oath  and  the  compact  with  the  Devil ! 
You  thought  I  didn't  know  you  for  the  Little  Maid 
— but  I  found  you  out. "  He  paused  for  breath, 
barricading  her  way  with  his  heavy  bulk.  "Come 
now,  Mistress,  make  a  bargain  with  me, "  he  went 
on.  "Wouldst  have  me  spare  the  Governor?" 
He  approached  nearer,  his  eyes  gloating  upon  her 
eagerly. 

"I  bargain  not  with  such  as  thou.  Governor 
Phips  needs  no  coward's  'sparing' !"  They  had 
stopped  before  the  pewterer's  door,  and  the  girl 
moved  toward  it  as  she  spoke. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  317 

"Thou  art  the  coward — eh,  Mistress?     'Tis  the 
contagion  thou'rt   fearing, "   he  called   after  her. 
"  But  I'm  not  with  Beulah.     I  go  not  near  the  girl 
— the  zany  to  get  the  pest  and  set  us  all  in  danger  ! " 

"What  is  that?"  Temple  turned  to  him  per- 
emptorily. "Is  your  sister  ill?  Who  careth  for 
her?" 

"Aye — thou'rt  curious  now — all  women  alike 
are " 

The  Maid  interrupted.  "Tell  me  what  is  the 
matter,  "  she  insisted  sharply. 

"Beulah  hath  gotten  the  smallpox,"  he  an- 
swered, "  and  lieth  sick  at  home.  Twill  cost  her 
her  pink  cheeks  most  like.  For  care — she  getteth 
precious  little  !  Nurse  Quail  refuseth  to  come  and 
Mam  hath  small  time  to  spare  from  praying  and 
weeping.  Some  of  the  congregation  be  met  within 
her  chamber  now  to  pray  for  her.  " 

"Beulah's?  They  pray  in  the  sick  girl's  cham- 
ber?" Temple's  voice  showed  her  indignant 
wonder. 

"Aye — have  they  no  praying  for  the  sick  among 

thy "     Jacob  waited,  seeing  she  had  not  heeded 

him.  She  was  inclining  her  head  with  courtesy 
remote  and  quiet.  He  had  not  marked  who  was 
passing  behind  him,  and  Roger  Verring,  after  a 
half-perceptible  pause,  had  replaced  the  tri-cor- 
nered  beaver  and  gone  his  way.  The  Maid's  eyes 
had  rested  briefly  upon  him  as  he  went.  His  very 
manner  of  wearing  a  cloak  was  pleasing  and  made 
the  King's  officers  look  tawdry  as  they  met  him. 

One  of  the  red-coated  swaggerers  spent  on  her  a 
killing  glance,  sauntering  too  near  as  he  came  by, 


3i8          THE  COASTS  OF   FREEDOM 

but  hastened  on  indifferent,  as  he  felt  her  unregard- 
ing  glance  that  plainly  saw  him  not. 

"  Come  now — art  a  'mazing  beauty,  if  thou  be'st 
a  witch  !  Think  better  on't,  Mistress.  "  Jacob's 
elaborate  courtesy  had  dwindled  to  a  miserable 
naturalness.  He  was  grossly  vulnerable  to  the  at- 
titude that  unconsciously  ignored  him.  It  loosed  a 
vile  and  wordy  tongue,  made  more  fluent  by  the 
sight  of  Roger,  whom  he  had  at  last  perceived. 
"  'Tis  well  for  thee  !  Prefer  the  hangman  an'  thou 
wilt !  Thou'lt  not  be  so  ready  to  spit  on  men  of 
substance  with  thy  pretty  neck  in  his  halter.  I 
would  have  saved  thee " 

One  who  came  toward  them  swerved  from  the 
path,  gazing  with  bulging  eyes  upon  the  Maid  as  he 
went  by.  Jacob  talked  rapidly,  attempting  to  get 
closer. 

"  I  can  save  thee  yet What  say'st  thou " 

A  flash  of  swift  repulsion  and  command  drove 
him  back  a  pace,  the  involuntary  flight  of  the  bully. 
She  turned  slowly,  neither  speaking  nor  looking  to 
see  if  he  followed,  and  opened  the  pewterer's  door. 

When  she  came  out  Jacob  was  standing  again  at 
the  threshold  of  the  Blue  Anchor  Tavern. 

"Come,  get  thee  home,  Jacob  Munch.  'Tis  grief 
for  thy  sister  would  make  thee  careless.  Hast  had 
enough,  "  Mr.  Monck  was  saying  paternally. 

"Thou'rt  right,  Neighbour  Monck."  A  cunning 
intelligence  came  to  the  rescue  of  the  dull  rage  in 
Jacob's  face.  "  I  have  been  much "  He  hesi- 
tated for  a  word  and  went  on  glibly,  omitting  it — 
"  by  Beulah's  sickness.  "  He  raised  his  hat  with  an 
unpuritan  flourish  and  set  it  back  less  exactly  than 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  319 

was  his  wont,  moving  off  aimlessly  toward  the 
Town  House. 

"A  fine  young  man  !  No  wonder  if  he  be  upset.  " 
'Tis  shame  the  pest  should  seize  a  maid  so  comely. 
A  man  bears  better  with  a  pitted  face, "  and  the 
host  of  the  Blue  Anchor  went  back  to  his  tasks, 
compressing  his  lips  with  amiable  regret. 

The  snow  was  falling  once  more  in  fine  and 
clustered  flakes  that  clung  damply  upon  the  gar- 
ments of  the  wayfarers. 

Temple  moved  forward  among  the  flurries  with- 
out haste.  Her  face  was  set  thoughtfully  in  a  look 
whose  wider  meaning  Roger  might  perhaps  have 
guessed,  but  even  love  could  not  have  unriddled 
the  cause  of  its  underlying  pain.  Into  a  life  lonely 
and  deep-entrenched  in  long  reserve  she  had  ad- 
mitted the  resistless  presence  of  a  comradeship 
that  seemed  to  come  of  right.  Barring  it  out  had 
left  her  doubly  solitary.  But  what  sign  of  pain  or 
inward  wretchedness  her  look  betrayed,  it  was  gone 
when  she  came  to  the  gate  before  the  house  of 
Christopher  Munch. 

Here  she  stopped,  gazed  upward  at  the  shaded 
windows,  and  stood  an  instant  with  her  hand  upon 
the  post.  Then  she  walked  quietly  up  the  path 
and  raised  the  knocker,  beating  it  softly  upon  the 
iron  knob  that  took  the  blow. 

The  long  ribbons  that  tied  her  bonnet  blew  about 
her  shoulders,  but  the  wide  brim  lined  with  yellow 
silk — quilled  like  flower  petals  within  the  flare — 
was  trimly  set  upon  the  dark  hair,  and  the  fringed 
mantle  lay  straightly  on  her  shoulders.  None  came 
in  answer  to  her  knocking.  She  waited  till  she  had 


320  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

summoned  the  household  thrice,  then  lifted  the 
latch  and  went  in  with  hard-taken  resolution. 
The  smell  of  burning  rags  and  vinegar  filled  the 
lower  rooms,  that  showed  a  dusty  confusion  through 
the  open  doors. 

Temple  paused  at  the  foot  of  the  stair,  and  com- 
ing back  to  the  pegs  in  the  low  hall,  took  off  her  hat 
and  mantle  and  hung  them  up.  There  was  a  loud 
sound  above  that  soared  and  sank  continuous  and 
melancholy.  As  she  climbed,  words  of  prayer  and 
exhortation  came  to  her  with  a  noise  of  hysterical 
crying,  and  then  a  querulous  voice  that  incessantly 
complained. 

"  Go  away — please  go  away.  Oh,  make  them  go 
away. "  The  voice  grew  more  shrill,  and  broke 

into  a  moan.  "Some  water!  I  would  drink 

Mam,  make  them  go  away — I  want  water — Shubael 
— Shubael  get  me  some  water.  Shubael  will  get 
some.  Don't  ask  Jacob.  Henever'll  do  aught  I  ask." 
The  praying  voice  rose  louder,  drowning  the  sick 
girl's  cries.  The  weeping  grew  more  hysterical. 

"And  if  it  be  Thy  dread  will,  O  Thou  Awful  and 
Almighty  God,  Omnipotent  and  Omnipresent 
Judge,  Arbiter  of  this  our  mortal  Destiny,  that  this 
maid,  thy  creature,  soon  be  brought  before  Thy 
Judgment  Seat " 

"Make  them  go  away — Mother "  The 

scream  pierced  like  the  scream  of  a  child  fallen  in 
deep  water.  Temple  was  in  the  open  doorway  from 
which  the  odours  of  the  sick  room  welled  repellant, 
and  her  yoice  answered  the  cry  in  words  clear  and 
soothing. 

The  sick  girl  sitting  up,  unrecognizable  and  loath- 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  321 

some,  in  the  hollow  of  the  mammoth  featherbed 
that  billowed  about  her  neath  a  twisted  mass  of 
quilts,  held  out  her  burning  hands  with  another  cry. 

"Temple — Temple  Armitage — make  them  go 
away " 

"  Silence,  girl.  Lie  thou  still  while  we  supplicate 
the  Throne  of  Grace. "  The  two  men  who  stood 
with  folded  palms  at  the  bed's  foot,  moved  nearer. 
The  girl  shrieked  and  fell  back  upon  her  hot  pillows, 
moaning  again.  Tears  trickled  under  her  puffed 
lids  and  ran  upon  the  disfigured  cheeks. 

"  Temple — they  are  come  to  take  me  to  the  Devil. 
Make  them — ah " 

The  man  of  the  loud  voice  was  drawing  nearer 
still.  Beulah  crawled  farther  from  him,  writhing 
in  delirious  fear. 

Temple  leaned  above  the  pitiful  figure,  her  arms 
about  the  burning  shoulders. 

"Go! "she  said  sternly  to  the  men.  "You  are 
making  her  worse.  And  you,  Mistress  Munch, 
bring  me  water  from  the  well. " 

Mistress  Munch  ceased,  from  sheer  surprise,  her 
loud  weeping,  The  men  looked  upon  Temple  with 
the  ire  of  an  offended  rage,  and  waited  dumb- 
founded at  her  temerity. 

"  Go  ! "  the  Maid  repeated.  "You've  done  harm 
enough  already.  "  There  was  authority  in  her  tone 
that  carried  inexplicable  weight.  They  retreated 
from  the  bed,  and  regarded  the  two  girls  solemnly. 

"Beware,  Mistress!"  He  of  the  loud  voice 
raised  his  hand  as  if  to  pronounce  a  curse.  "You 
send  forth  the  servants  of  the  Lord.  Beware  lest 
He  also  withdraw  his  countenance. 


322  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"You  can  pray  elsewhere,"  answered  the  girl 
firmly.  "  Nor  did  I  ever  hear  that  faith  and  works 
might  not  both  be  pleasing  to  God.  " 

"False — Mistress  'tis " 


"Can  you  not  see  you  make  her  worse.     Go- 


Please,  Sirs,  go  now,"  she  commanded  unshaken, 
and  they  went,  driven,  as  both  bore  witness,  re- 
counting their  discomfiture,  by  something  none 
could  describe  in  her  eyes,  and  in  her  voice  which 
though  low  would  make  a  man  to  quake  for 
fear. 

Beulah  was  moaning  and  mumbling,  her  parched 
lips  open,  her  unsightly  arms  still  clinging. 

Mistress  Munch  had  shown  her  visitors  cere- 
moniously from  the  house  before  she  brought  the 
water. 

"I  fear  'twill  kill  her.  Were  it  not  better  she 
have  the  Burgundy  ? "  wailed  the  woman  helplessly. 
"  Oh,  that  I  should  be  so  afflicted — and  Beulah  such 
a  beauty — and  now  none  knoweth  but  she  may  be 

hideous,  if  she  live  at  all "  Temple  took  the 

water,  silencing  the  shrill  tongue.  Beulah  had 
shuddered,  seeming  to  understand. 

' '  We  are  going  to  keep  ward  so  carefully  that  she 
shall  have  no  scars.  Now  she  must  rest.  "  Temple 
spoke  distinctly  and  Beulah  looked  through  her 
swollen  lids,  listening. 

"  When  had  she  water  last  ? "  asked  the  Maid  as 
the  sick  girl  drank  thirstily. 

"I  gave  her  a  wineglass  yestere'en,  though  'twas 
against  wisdom, "  Mistress  Munch  answered,  wail- 
ing again. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  323 

"You  are  greatly  wearied,"  Temple  said  sooth- 
ingly. ' '  Go  now  and  sleep .  You  can  trust  me  with 
Beulah. " 

"Are  you  wonted  to  sickness?"  The  woman 
paused  fussily,  wiping  her  eyes, 

"You  can  trust  me.  Pray  go.  You  have  need 
of  rest, "  Temple  persisted. 

"That  I  do  sorely.  Two  nights  alone,  with 
Christopher  afraid,  and  Shubael  sent  for  safety  to 
his  aunt — and  even  the  neighbours  shy  of  us.  "  The 
woman  wept  afresh. 

After  she  had  gone  Temple  straightened  the  bed 
with  a  firm  smoothing  of  its  chaos,  drew  the  linen 
above  the  quilts  so  only  its  smooth  surface  should 
touch  the  sick  girl's  flesh,  and  opened  two  windows, 
one  on  either  side,  letting  the  breeze  sweep  through 
and  cleanse  the  air. 

Then  with  a  ewer  of  mottled  porcelain  half  filled 
with  water,  upon  a  chair  beside  her,  she  drew  a 
cambric  handkerchief  from  the  silk  bag  that  swung 
by  ribbons  at  her  side,  and  softly  bathed  the  fevered 
face  and  arms. 

She  could  hear  Mistress  Munch  below  going 
noisily  about  her  household  duties,  heartened  by 
the  finding  of  another's  shoulders  to  take  her 
burden. 

At  last  the  sick  girl  slept,  mingling  her  heavy 
breath  with  the  chill  air  and  in  her  sleep  putting  up 
restless  arms  to  touch  her  face.  Temple  watched, 
putting  them  back  before  they  could  do  harm,  and 
finally  laying  one  hand  on  the  crossed  wrists  to 
keep  them  still.  The  light  darkened ;  even  beyond 


324  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

the  window  whose  shade  she  had  raised  a  gloomy 
sky  made  a  dun  background. 

It  was  all  lifeless,  all  dark,  and  full  of  ugly 
shadows.  The  girl's  eyes  grew  large  and  mournful, 
and  then  the  lips  that  could  smile  as  could  no  others 
set  themselves  in  the  close  curve  of  hard  endur- 
ance. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

A   PASTORAL   CALL 

THE  sun  rioted  upon  the  clean  surface  of  the 
snow,  and  the  still  air  brought  the  cheerful 
sound  of  creaking  sledges. 

Mr.  Cotton  Mather  paused  at  the  door  of  his 
house  and  drew  on  his  minkskin  gloves.  From  the 
peak  of  his  sombre  hat  to  his  high  boots  of  well- 
dyed  leather  there  was  no  note  but  black.  Even 
his  linen  bands  were  hid  by  the  black  cloak. 

"  Father— Sir !" 

Behind  him  in  the  open  doorway  stood  a  round- 
cheeked  little  girl,  with  tears  still  flowing  over 
flushed  cheeks  and  lips  convulsed  with  sobs.  She 
was  bare-armed  and  bare-necked  save  for  a  tiny, 
short-sleeved  open  jacket  of  thin  cashmere  that 
partly  hid  the  naked  shoulders. 

The  clergyman  turned  at  the  cry. 

"What  is  it,  daughter?"  he  asked  not  unkindly, 
but  with  a  sober  heaviness  that  seemed  to  intimi- 
date the  wee  creature.  She  shook  her  head,  her 
frightened  eyes  on  his  face. 

The  young  man,  already  old  in  authority  and  in 
family  cares,  and  weighted  with  a  store  of  learning 
that  had  taken  all  his  laborious  childhood  and 
ardent  youth,  finished  fastening  his  glove  and  bent 
down  to  the  shaking  little  figure  on  the  sill. 

"What  is  it,  Katy?"  he  asked  again.  "Thou 
wilt  tell  father  what  oppresseth  thy  conscience.  " 

325 


326  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"Will — will  the  Devil — take  me,  if  I  be  never 
naughty  again,  and  never  move  about  when  thou 
prayest?" 

The  terrified  voice  was  low.  The  eyes  drowned 
in  a  fresh  overflow. 

"Nay,  an'  thou  be  a  good  Katy  and  pray  often 
for  forgiveness  for  thy  sinning  and  be  obedient, 
then  canst  thou  ask  God  to  keep  thee  from  the 
Devil.  But  he  watcheth  very  close.  How  old  art 
thou,  Katharine?" 

"  Free  years  old,  and  free  monfs  more,  "  answered 
Katy,  one  chubby  hand  holding  to  the  paternal 
finger. 

"A  big  girl  already,  seest  thou?  And  i  thou  be 
good  'twill  be  easier  for  thy  little  sister  to  praise 
God  in  her  obedience  and  her  piety.  Even  now, 
my  child,  though  she  cannot  talk,  she  keepeth  an 
eye  on  all  thou  dost.  Is't  not  so. " 

"Yes;  when  I  hurt  my  finger  and  cwied  out  she 

cwied  too Thou  wilt  not  let  the  Devil  get 

me?"  The  anxious  eyes  had  not  let  go  their 
hold. 

"Thy  father  prayeth  daily  that  Katy  may  be 
among  God's  elect,  and  thou  must  pray,  and  serve 
the  Lord  with  diligence.  Hasten  now  and  make  thy 
petitions  again  in  father's  study,  and  run  quickly 
for  it  is  too  cold  for  thee  here.  " 

He  would  have  gone,  but  the  child  still  clung  to 
the  minkskin  glove,  her  small  frame  quivering. 

"  I  will — therve  the  Lord, "  she  said,  and  the 
spiritual  autocrat  of  the  North  Church  hid  a  mois- 
ture in  his  own  easily  wet  eyes  on  the  close-cropped 
head  and  kissed  her  with  rare  indulgence,  smiling 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  327 

as  the  little  feet  clattered  through  the  cold  hall  be- 
hind him. 

But  as  he  journeyed  in  the  snow-trodden  street, 
returning  the  salutations  of  the  elders  and  acknowl- 
edging with  lordly  nods  the  "  manners  "  of  the  awed 
and  tongue-tied  children,  his  features  set  themselves 
in  their  hardest  mould  of  judicial  and  divinely 
licensed  anger. 

More  than  one  interested  gaze  was  fixed  upon 
him  as  he  entered  the  gate  of  the  Widow  Pullen's 
house  and  moved  with  a  step  of  conscious  solemnity 
toward  the  door. 

The  knocker  resounded  thunderously.  While 
he  waited,  Mr.  Mather  looked  doubtfully  upon  a 
mass  of  green  boughs  heaped  upon  the  snow  at  the 
side  of  the  well-cleared  path. 

"  Thy  master  hath  procured  these  for  the  banking 
of  the  house  against  the  cold?"  he  demanded  of 
the  maid  who  responded  to  his  knock. 

"Nay,  Sir,"  she  answered,  curtseying.  "They 

be  Christmas  greens,  Sir but  a  poor  Christmas 

'twill  be  in  this  heathenish  new  world  with  shops 
to  be  all  open  and  no  waits  to  sing  a  carol ! "  She 
curtseyed  again,  expecting  praise  from  the  digni- 
tary whose  garb  was  plainly  clerical. 

"Curb  thy  ignorant  tongue,  woman,  and  cease 
lamenting  the  vain  tricks  of  Popish  days.  Thou 
art,  I  fear  me,  but  dangerously  placed  ! " 

The  maid  looked  at  him,  bewildered,  missing  his 
point  spite  of  the  weighty  delivery  of  his  words. 

"Thank'ee,  Sir,  "  she  answered,  curtseying  again. 
"  But  we  keep  the  day  here,  as  faithfully  and  merry 
as  in  Devon,  Sir.  None  of  they  non-'formists  shall 


328  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

be  suffered  to  make  no  difference  here.  Who  shall 
I  say  you  would  see,  Sir  ? " 

Waftures  of  spicy  cookery  pervaded  the  apart- 
ment which  Mr.  Mather  surveyed,  pleasant  hints  of 
the  rows  of  toothsome  dishes,  hot  from  the  brick 
oven,  that  were  set  to  cool  upon  the  white-scoured 
table  of  the  kitchen.  The  entrance  to  the  Widow 
Pullen's  house,  like  that  of  Nicolas  Verring,  gave 
upon  a  great  room  from  which  the  stairs  ascended. 

The  clergyman  regarded  the  costly  furnishings,  a 
natural  curiosity  mixed  with  stern  reprehension. 
The  furniture  of  the  place  had  been  so  added  to  and 
overpowered  by  the  richer  garnishings  come  with 
Sir  John  from  England  that  it  bore  no  resemblance 
to  its  earlier  state.  The  tables  inlaid  with  ivory 
and  mother  of  pearl,  the  rich  stuffs  that  cushioned 
the  window-seats,  and  the  chairs  brought  from 
light-minded  France  and  ministering  with  seduc- 
tion to  the  eye,  strange  ornaments  upon  the  mantel 
resembling  the  pagan  gods,  even  the  pictured 
tapestries,  revolted  him. 

"Tell  Mistress  Armitage, "  he  commanded,  as  an 
oriental  potentate  might  summon  a  subject  to  his 
footstool,  "that  I  would  speak  with  her. " 

"I  will  see  if  Mistress  Armitage  be  receiving. 

Pray,  Sir,  come  this  way.  Who  shall  I  say " 

began  the  woman  again,  looping  a  brocaded  curtain 
from  the  arch  Sir  John  had  constructed  between 
this  living  room  and  the  long  parlor  beyond. 

"I  am  here,  Betty,  and  I  will  see  Mr.  Mather." 
Mistress  Armitage  rose  from  the  window  niche 
where  she  had  been  fashioning  wreaths  and  crosses 
from  fir  twigs  and  ground  pine,  and  the  minister, 
wheeling  at  her  voice  with  somewhat  less  of  despotic 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  329 

stiffness,  bowed  low  before  he  was  aware,  rendering 
involuntarily  the  homage  he  would  have  exacted. 

Behind  her  on  the  diamond-paned  window  was 
darkly  outlined  a  wreath  upon  a  cross,  the  warmth 
of  evergreen  livening  and  comforting  the  cold  De- 
cember day.  Temple  had  been  happier  in  her  work 
than  in  anything  that  had  occupied  her  in  the 
weeks  just  past,  and  the  look  of  Christmas  cheer 
was  not  wholly  lacking  from  her  face,  grown  paler 
in  the  days  of  nursing. 

Her  arms  and  neck  were  covered  with  sleeves 
and  tucker  of  firm-patterned  lace,  and  shoulder 
knots,  warm  with  the  colour  of  red  roses,  clung  soft 
and  homelike  upon  the  foreign  web.  Her  full  skirt, 
slashed  from  hem  to  pointed  bodice,  flowed  back- 
ward upon  the  smooth  sheen  of  the  petticoat  in 
whose  ivory  folds  a  carmine  flush  came  and  went 
as  she  moved,  and  the  tasselled  girdle  of  silk  cord 
swung  upon  the  cream  and  rose-red  of  her  draperies. 
Every  line  gave  grace  and  height  to  the  stateliness 
already  hers. 

"Madam  Chanterell  is  indisposed  and  Sir  John 
Winchcombe  is  from  home,  "  she  added  as  she  led 
him  beneath  the  curtains  into  the  more  imposing 
room  on  their  farther  side. 

For  once  in  many  years  of  ready  sovreignty  the 
man  followed  and  was  still. 

Betty  stirred  the  coals  and  replenished  the  fire 
with  a  forestick  that  flamed  and  snapped  genial  de- 
fiance to  the  sour  displeasure  of  the  visitor's  look. 

He  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  as  the  woman 
departed,  somewhat  less  imposing  divested  of  his 
cloak  that  Betty  had  carried  with  her,  but  suffi- 


330  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

ciently  alarming  to  have  awed  the  maidens  of  his 
congregation  into  trembling  anxiousness. 

Still  he  was  silent,  and  it  would  have  seemed  to 
the  astute  that  the  denunciation  of  his  manner 
found  a  less  easy  utterance  in  speech. 

"  I  pray  you,  be  seated,  Mr.  Mather.  " 

The  girl  stood  graciously  waiting  while  her  guest 
rapped  sharply  with  his  knuckles  upon  a  prayer 
book  that  lay  upon  a 'polished  shelf. 

"Whose  is  this  ? "  he  inquired  harshly. 

"  It  was  my  mother's,  "  Temple  answered.  She 
had  winced  at  the  blows  and  there  was  a  glow 
in  the  dark  eyes,  less  than  ever  meek  as  she  watched 
his  movements. 

"  'Tis  unmeet  such  books  of  vain  and  fond  repeti- 
tions be  brought  to  this  new  colony  where  we  be 
striving  to  obey  the  Scripture  pure  and  undefiled. 
It  soweth  error  among  those  who  would  fain  be 
left  in  freedom  to  worship  God.  " 

"And  cannot  the  men  of  the  new  world  be  free 
while  there  be  any  who  worship  not  after  their 
manner?"  asked  the  girl. 

Mr.  Mather  had  seated  himself  reluctantly,  feeling 
a  greater  ease  in  his  task  while  he  stood,  and  he  drew 
off  slowly  the  mink  gloves  furred  within,  reveal- 
ing his  tapered  fingers  adorned  with  funeral  rings. 

"I  fear,  Mistress,  thy  contumacy  listens  not  to 
the  wisdom  of  thy  elders, "  he  replied  with  cold 
formality,  laying  the  gloves  upon  a  table.  "None 
may  worship  in  true  peace  when  error  aboundeth 
in  the  midst.  What  doest  thou  with  papistical 
signs  and  gauds  hung  within  thy  windows  ? " 

The  girl  sat  down,  with  a  soft  rustle  of  her  silken 
folds,  upon  a  straight  chair  opposite,  and  returned 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  331 

his  dictatorial  question  with  a  look  of  great  sur- 
prise. 

"Is  not  the  cross  everywhere  a  Christian  sym- 
bol ? "  she  asked.  "  Surely  it  is  set  plainly  in  every 
door  in  Boston  mansions,  and  I  had  supposed  it 
was  for  a  sign  of  the  Christian  household  within. " 

Mr.  Mather  turned  involuntarily  to  the  only  door 
visible  within  the  room,  one  that  led  to  a  closet  be- 
side the  lofty  mantel,  and  there,  as  the  Maid  had 
said,  was  the  raised  cross  with  sunken  panels  be- 
tween. 

"  'Twas  never  intended  for  a  sign,  Mistress.  At 
least,  were  such  the  folly  of  builders  of  older  days 
'tis  unconsciously  perpetuated  in  this  colony.  It 
should  be  looked  to. "  He  glanced  uneasily  a 
second  time  at  the  door.  "So  with  sly  and  cun- 
ning disguise  doth  Satan  come  among  us,  mingling 
like  an  evil  odour  that  pervadeth  the  good  air,  in  our 
most  common  deeds.  Vigilance — there  is  no  hope 
for  us  but  in  a  more  strenuous  and  fervent  watch. 
And  that,  Mistress" — he  leaned  forward,  his  eyes 
starting  with  a  fixed  and  glassy  concentration — ' '  is 
wherefore  I  am  come,  to  warn,  to  command  thee 
to  desist. " 

For  the  girl  whose  blood  flowed  wholesomely  and 
steadied  her  nerves  for  joy  or  for  endurance,  so  that 
the  spirit  mastered  the  flesh  in  a  sound  and  noble 
restraint,  this  man  whose  solemnity  was  shaken  by 
the  force  of  so  great  excitement  seemed  beside  him- 
self, his  words  the  irresponsible  ramblings  of  dis- 
ease. For  an  instant  that  thought  showed  in  the 
astonished  compassion  with  which  she  contem- 
plated him.  But  as  he  sat  before  her  in  the  black 


332  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

raiment  of  his  office,  the  aggressive  embodiment  of 
that  jurisdiction  beneath  which  her  life  had  fallen, 
his  power  was  too  solid,  too  real,  for  compassion. 

She  said  nothing,  waiting  for  some  explanation 
of  the  attack.  He,  too,  waited,  expecting  a  differ- 
ent effect  to  follow  his  dolorously  weighted  phrases. 

"What  hast  thou  to  say?"  He  kept  his  eyes 
upon  her  as  if  believing  the  gaze  would  overwhelm 
her  calmness. 

"In  what  have  we  offended?  If  these  greens 
transgress  the  law,  pray  lay  the  matter  before  Sir 
John  Winchcombe. " 

"Thy  Master  gives  thee  a  tongue  quick  in  skilled 
evasion,  Mistress,  "  he  answered  angrily,  "but  'twill 
not  avail.  Know'st  thou  not  that  the  God  of  Israel 
is  greater  than  Him  thou  servest  and  will  utterly 
confound  Him  in  the  Great  Day  ?  Repent,  repent, 
and  confess,  ere  His  anger  blast  thee  utterly. " 

"  Who  gives  to  you  authority  to  invade  the  house 
of  an  English  gentleman  and  assail  those  beneath 
his  care  with  vague  and  unmanly  taunts?  "the  girl 
asked  with  sudden  resentment.  "  If  there  be  that 
in  our  worship  or  our  conduct  that  likes  you  not, 
Sir,  pray  lay  the  matter  before  Sir  John  Winch- 
combe  that  he  may  know  how  tyrannous  is  the  spy- 
ing policy  of  these  new  colonies.  Madam  Chanter- 
ell  would  thank  you And  if  this  Christmas 

greenery  disturb  you  'tis  to  Sir  John  you  should 
appeal. " 

"  I  speak  not  of  Sir  John,  nor  will  thy  lying 
tongue  avail, "  he  broke  in  with  mounting  wrath. 
"My  business  is  with  thee,  to  cast  out  the  Devil 
from  thy  body  and  bring  thee  to  confession. "  He 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  333 

lifted  the  stick  he  had  retained  and  struck  it  upon 
the  floor  in  an  authoritative  blow. 

The  girl  looked  at  him  undaunted,  wondering  at 
the  outbreak.  Her  innate  distaste  for  emotion 
publicly  displayed  showing  in  a  quieter  reserve  in 
her  replies. 

"Your  violence  is  without  warrant,  Sir,"  she 
said  coldly.  "  Even  were  I  your  parishioner  I  could 
not  listen  further. " 

"Girl — thou  triest  my  patience  beyond  the 
bounds.  Were  it  not  that  I  remember  'tis  but  the 
Devil  speaking  with  thy  false  lips  I  could  chastise 
thy  ready  insolence. " 

The  Maid  rose  with  unhurried  dignity  and  spoke 
with  intense  deliberation,  looking  down  upon  him 
steadily.  Her  colour  was  warmer  and  she  took  her 
breath  somewhat  more  deeply,  but  her  voice  was 
low,  and  not  less  rich  and  full. 

"Patience,  Sir,  seems  most  demanded  of  them 
you  would  affright.  Such  freedom  as  yours  is  a 
false  coin,  with  slavery  for  its  reverse. " 

"Beware,  Mistress, — I  tell  thee !  I  am  come  in 
the  place  of  the  God  thy  crimes  offend!"  Mr 
Mather  rolled  forth  his  words  loudly. 

•'Then  do  I  know  you  are  come  taking  a  Holy 
Name  in  vain;  for  His  servants  bring  peace  and 
good-will  on  Christmas  Eve,  not  anger  and  dis- 
sension. "  The  girl  seemed  to  grow  taller,  holding 
herself  regally  at  her  full  height,  and  her  words 
grave,  and  beautiful  in  their  utterance,  held  him 
silent  till  she  had  finished. 

He  also  rose. 

"Thou   hast   a   devil,"   he   repeated,   his   voice 


334  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

quivering  with  the  fury  of  his  seeming  impotence. 
"Thou  art  possessed!" 

She  passed  onward  toward  the  curtains  with  the 
slight  motion  of  chill  dismissal. 

"  I  will  bid  Betty  attend  you,  Sir,  "  she  had  said, 
when  he  sprang  in  unclerical  haste  to  intercept  her, 
putting  out  his  hand  to  seize  her  arm. 

"Go  at  thy  peril,"  he  panted.  "Thou  art  ac- 
dursed,  but  I  would  save  thee  by  thy  confession  if 
thou  be  not  damned  already.  I  give  thee  this  one 
chance  further,  to  own  thy  crimes  and  seek  re- 
pentance. " 

The  girl  had  not  hastened  her  going  for  his  sud- 
den movement,  but  he  withdrew  his  hand  quickly  at 
her  look,  before  it  touched  her.  The  outer  door 
opened  and  closed  vehemently. 

"A  pest  on  the  cold — ugh!"  groaned  a  voice  be- 
yond the  archway.  "  Betty — Betty,  I  say  !  Curse 
the  woman  !  Betty  ! " 

"Will  you  go  now  or  shall  I  ask  Sir  John's  per- 
mission to  leave  you  ? "  asked  the  Maid,  still  quietly. 

"Sir  John  will  not  succour  a  witch,  "  he  retorted 
confidently.  "Not  even  thy  Master  can  save  thee 
for  there  is  One  Greater " 

"A  witch — you  believe  in  good  faith  that  I — am 
a  witch  ? "  She  interrupted  him,  transfixed.  "  You 
must  be  mad,  "  she  added  in  a  tone  hardly  audible. 

Mr.  Mather's  features  shone  with  a  fierce  exulta- 
tion. The  girl  had  grown  white  at  his  word. 

"  If  you  believe  this  dreadful  charge,  you  should 
have  proof,  "  she  said  after  a  pause.  "  Why  should 
you  fix  on  me  to  be  a  witch  ? " 

The  horror  and  sincerity  of  her  recoil,  in  some 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  335 

degree  modified  the  fierceness  of  her  accuser.  He 
watched,  puzzled  and  alert,  replying  with  solemn 
volubility. 

"There  be  many  proofs.  You  turned  from  the 
sick  bed  of  a  daughter  of  the  faith  them  who  prayed 
for  her  recovery,  making  mock  of  their  prayers, 
and  when  you  had  driven  them  forth  you  used  some 
evil  power  to  restore  the  maid,  who  lay  already  at 
the  portal  of  death  appointed  of  her  Maker.  What; 
say  you  to  that  ? " 

"That  it  is  false,"  the  girl  cried,  "as  only  tales 
are  false  that  bear  a  little  truth.  Will  you  listen  to 
me,  and  hear  me  candidly  as  you  would  wish  justice 
for  yourself  ?  You  bring  against  me  a  grave  charge 
of  the  most  horrid  crime.  You  accuse  me  that  I 
am  of  those  who  have  sold  themselves  to  Satan  and 
must  work  his  cruel  will.  And  if  that  charge  be 
believed  it  will  cost  me  my  life.  Is  this  not  so  ? " 

"  'Tis  for  that  I  came.     If  thou  confess " 

he  leaned  toward  her  greedily. 

"To  confess  what  is  not  true  were  itself  a  crime,  " 
she  answered.  "Shall  I  tell  you  that  which  is  the 
truth  ? " 

"Speak.  If  thou  liest,  Mistress,  thou  but  sink' st 
thyself  deeper  in  the  abyss. "  He  sent  forth  his 
periods  as  from  the  pulpit's  altitude. 

She  lifted  her  hand  as  if  his  words  troubled  her 
like  a  persistent  insect,  but  he  had  ceased,  prepared 
to  listen,  his  manner  hostile,  steeled  against  the 
subtlety  of  the  Fiend. 

"I  asked  those  who  prayed  by  Beulah  Munch  to 
go  and  pray  for  her  elsewhere  because  she  was  de- 
lirious and  was  made  worse  by  the  confusion  in  the 


336  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

chamber.  She  cried  out  continually,  begging  them 
to  go. "  Temple  rested  her  eyes  on  him,  waiting 
to  see  if  he  would  believe.  Even  at  peril  of  her  life 
it  went  hard  with  her  to  plead  for  herself  to  this 
man,  whose  language  had  so  offended. 

"But  how  couldst  thou  cure  her?"  he  began, 
gloomily  determined. 

"By  God's  help,"  she  interrupted  clearly.  "I 
prayed  ever  as  I  worked  that  I  might  save  the 
child — who  had  suffered  much — and  He  heard  me.  " 
.  "  And  the  scars — she  shows  no  scars.  " 

"  I  watched  her  even  when  she  slept,  and  while  I 
was  not  by,  Mistress  Munch  kept  guard.  Save  for 
her  arms,  where  she  did  herself  harm  when  Mistress 
Munch,  being  tired,  fell  once  asleep,  she  hath  no 
sign  of  the  disease.  "  There  was  a  certain  content- 
ment in  the  tone  in  which  she  spoke.  Beulah's  joy 
at  her  recovered  prettiness  had  been  the  sole  re- 
ward of  painful  days. 

"Could  I  pray  for  aid  in  that  which  was  accursed," 
the  Maid  went  on,  "or  call  on  God  to  help  me, 
speaking  His  Name  to  you  if  I  were  what  you  say  ?  " 

"Sometimes  the  Fiend  is  cunning,  and  seemeth 
pious, "  he  answered.  "What  of  Shubael,  Mistress, 
whom  they  say  thou  hast  afflicted  so  that  he  weeps 
to  see  thee  and  even  when  he  is  beaten  doth  not 
desist?" 

"  'Tis  cruel. "  The  girl  clasped  her  hands  rest- 
lessly. "I  can  do  nothing  and  'tis  not  my  fault, 
save  that  I  liked  the  little  lad  and  was  kind  to 
him.  He  hath  a  warm  heart  and  few  have  time  to 
talk  and  play  with  him.  I  know  not  why  Mistress 
Munch — mayhap  she  thinks  I  am  a  witch  ! "  She 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  337 

looked  at  Mr.  Mather  quickly.  "  Of  course — 'tis 
that — and  Jacob — he " 

"  What  of  Jacob  ?    Him,  too,  thou  hast  afflicted.  " 

"Nay — hear  me,  Mr.  Mather.  Why  should  I 
wish  them  harm.  Master  Munch  hath  no  affliction 
save  that  I  preferred  his  sister  to  himself  and  so 
angered  him.  He  makes  much  of  little.  But  for 
Shubael,  the  child  grieves  and  I  dare  not  go  to  see 
him  and  be  friendly  with  the  lad  because  then 
he  is  punished.  You  have  known  children — 'tis 
said  your  own  do  love  you  greatly — you  know  how 
a  small  thing  may  grieve  their  tenderness. " 

Mr.  Mather  shook  his  head  soberly.  She  had 
shown  an  agitation  that  brought  her  more  within 
his  ken.  His  judicial  rages  came  from  the  warmth 
of  his  imagination  and  not  like  the  Lieutenant- 
Governor's  from  an  icy  determination  unmoved  by 
feeling.  The  force  of  her  perfect  honesty  had 
struck  in  a  measure  conviction  to  his  feelings. 

"Why  should  you  interfere  in  the  care  of  one 
stricken  with  the  pest?"  he  asked  still  sternly. 
"What  was  thy  motive?" 

"The  motive  Our  Lord  Christ  gave  us,"  she  an- 
swered. "Surely  I  need  not  give  motives  to  a 
priest  of  God,  for  caring  for  the  sick.  What  evil 
wish  could  I  have  had  in  such  a  task?" 

"To  gain  her  soul  for  Hell."  Mr.  Mather  grew 
hectic  once  more,  regarding  her  with  renewed  dis- 
trust. "And  only  a  witch  could  trust  her  beauty 
where  it  might  perish  of  the  same  destruction, " 
he  added. 

"  And  is  not  God  as  powerful  as  the  Devil  to  pro- 
tect His  own?"  The  girl  did  not  waver.  The 


338  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

reticent  faith  that  had  grown,  unconscious  and 
without  observation  in  her  solitary  life,  expressed 
itself  for  the  first  time  in  her  words. 

"These  be  not  the  only  charges  brought  against 
thee,  Mistress.  And  'twas  an  error  graviminous 
and  weighty  to  drive  from  their  supplications  be- 
fore the  Heavenly  Throne  those  who  were  bent  on 
an  errand  of  mercy.  The  land  is  groaning  and 
travailing  in  a  horrid  agony.  I  have  seen  many 
times  the  marks  of  the  burning  and  of  the  pincers 
and  claws  that  tear  the  flesh  of  the  sufferers  in  this 
hellish  visitation.  Mistress  Epps  lieth  speechless 
and  her  face  is  pulled  in  awful  twitchings  that  cause 
her  to  writhe  helplessly  upon  her  bed.  She  was 
much  easier  after  that  I  prayed  with  her,  as  I  as- 
sured her  that  she  would  be.  I  have  hope  under 
God's  grace  to  drive  forth  the  evil  spirit  altogether." 
He  made  a  complacent  pause.  "  It  is  an  evil  hour 
when  they  who  serve  in  Zion  must  gird  upon  them 
the  armour  of  their  faith  and  do  battle  with  an  Aw- 
ful Foe.  We  would  not  willingly  make  wrongful  ac- 
cusation. Canst  thou  truly  clear  thyself  from  this 
most  Terrible  Charge  ?  Canst  thou  prove  that  thou 
hast  ne'er  had  dealings  with  Sathanas,  nor  tortured 
any,  nor  betrayed  thy  soul  to  be  a  servant  of  the 
Devil?" 

" Have  I  not  proved  it? "  The  girl's  earnestness 
grew  more  profound. 

"  Thou  hast  not  the  manner  of  those  condemned. 
But  there  are  many  wiles;  the  Devil  bringeth  his 
most  secret  and  powerful  subtleties  to  war  with  the 
elect. "  Mr.  Mather  walked  up  and  down,  pacing 
the  distance  from  door  to  window,  and  returning  to 
the  Maid  in  a  tense  abstraction. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  339 

"But  if  he  so  hate  the  elect  how  should  he  not 
show  it  in  his  servants  at  the  presence  of  them 
vowed  to  his  destruction  ?  Do  you  feel  any  horror, 
any  sense  of  the  Devil's  presence  in  me  ?  "  the  Maid 
asked  with  firm  assurance. 

Mr.  Mather  paused,  regarding  her  once  more 
and  with  a  less  hostile  determination. 

"  It  hath  oft  been  proved  the  Devil  cannot  abide 
my  presence  but  will  set  on  the  afflicted  to  strike  or 
injure  me,  although  none  may  harm  me;  they  are 
arrested  in  the  very  attempt. "  He  considered 
doubtfully. 

The  Maid  looked  at  him  with  a  faint  smile  more 
sad  than  her  sober  watching. 

"  Will  you  take  my  hand,  Mr.  Mather,  that  I  may 
show  you  how  little  I  fear  the  presence  of  God's 
people?" 

He  waited  briefly,  gazing  upon  her  face  with  eyes 
grown  more  sane  and  more  discerning,  and  then 
with  evident  wondering  at  his  own  faith,  he  took 
the  outstretched  hand  into  his  cold  and  nervous 
grasp. 

When  his  early  supper  was  over  and  Mr.  Mather 
was  locked  behind  the  massive  door  of  his  study,  he 
busied  himself  for  a  long  time  above  a  basin  that 
held  some  strong  and  aromatic  liquid,  plunging  his 
hands  within  and  rubbing  them  with  energy  upon  a 
linen  napkin  fetched  from  the  table.  Often  he  held 
up  his  right  hand  to  the  light  and  looked  at  it  with 
horror.  And  finally  he  knelt,  and  rocking  to  and 
fro,  prayed  aloud,  pouring  out  his  petition  in  flood- 
ing words  that  might  have  drowned  the  very  gates 
of  Heaven. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

CHRISTMAS  EVE:        THE    WAY    PAST    THE    INN 

OPPOSITE  the  Widow  Pullen's  house  Roger 
paced  up  and  down,  scattering  the  snow 
with  his  high  boots  and  holding  his  cloak 
against  the  wind  that  tore  in  a  shrieking  frenzy 
across  the  exposed  peninsula. 

A  light  burned  in  Temple's  room  and  an  extrava- 
gant glow  streamed  from  the  windows  of  the  lower 
floor.  Twice  in  the  four  days  since  her  return  from 
the  home  of  Christopher  Munch  the  Maid  had  re- 
fused to  see  him  and,  smarting  beneath  her  sudden 
coldness,  he  waited,  striving  to  compass  a  way  to 
solve  the  mystery  of  the  change.  That  she  had 
turned  from  him  was  due,  it  might  be,  to  Sir  Hum- 
phrey. 

His  pride  was  powerfully  at  war  with  an  unde- 
fined anxiety,  that  added  to  the  jealous  anger  and 
brought  his  thoughts  back  to  something  new,  not 
wholly  understood,  in  the  girl's  face.  Had  she 
heard  the  senseless  rumours  of  witchcraft  that  wan- 
dered here  and  there,  meaningless  and  stupid  as  the 
vulgar  minds  that  had  conceived  the  thought  ? 

He  drew  his  hat  low  over  his  eyes  and  let  the 
wind  have  its  way.  Upon  the  white-curtained 
windows  of  the  Maid's  room  no  shadow  was  re- 
vealed, but  below  he  saw  Betty  busied  about  the 
table  and  the  portly  figure  of  Sir  John  rising  stiffly 

340 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  341 

to  reach  a  pipe  above  the  mantle;  then  he  moved 
away  suddenly  and  set  himself  against  the  wind, 
walking  faster  toward  the  Common.  When  he  re- 
turned, another  figure,  breasting  the  storm  with  a 
hopeful  stride,  was  approaching  from  the  opposite 
direction.  It  stopped  before  the  gate  and  slipped 
the  latch,  pushing  the  bars  against  the  drifted  snow 
and  hastening  forward  to  the  door.  It  was  Sir 
Humphrey. 

Betty  admitted  him  with  a  smiling  face  and 
shortly  ascended  the  stairs,  returning  alone  to  close 
and  lock  the  shutters.  The  light  still  burned  in  the 
Maid's  room.  Had  she  descended?  A  foolish 
question !  She  would  be  coming  radiant  to  greet 
the  cavalier  and  hear  the  music  of  his  violin.  Upon 
the  wailing  of  the  wind  it  came  already,  heard  now 
and  then  in  speaking  cadences  that  sent  Roger's 
blood  back  upon  its  course  in  the  fierce  pressure  of 
a  world-old  misery. 

Within,  Sir  John,  huddled  over  the  fire,  was 
listening  with  a  frown.  Betty,  bearer  of  the  Maid's 
excuses,  had  tripped  forth  after  they  had  been  de- 
livered, with  a  final  admiring  glance  at  Sir  Hum- 
phrey's back.  Madam  stitched  with  fluttering  fingers 
at  her  embroidery  frame,  pausing  often  to  ask,  "Art 
better,  Brother, "  and  be  growled  at  with  vigorous 
denial. 

"Thou  playest  like  a  master.  I  know  a  good 
player,  but,  damme,  Sir  Humphrey,  if  aught  can 
pleasure  a  man  when  the  fiends  be  after  him 
like  this.  A  black  pest  on  their  chilly  Boston ! 
'Tis  naught  but  an  ^Eolus  cave  for  winds  and 
damp  ! " 


342  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  cavalier  laid  the  viol  upon  a  stool  and  crossed 
to  the  hearth,  a  certain  unwonted  agitation  in  his 
movements.  He  looked  at  the  sufferer,  appeared 
about  to  speak,  and,  turning  away,  studied  the 
flames  in  silence. 

"What  is  it  ?  What  are  ye  all  keeping  from  me  ? 
Seest  thou  death  in  my  face?"  Sir  John  asked 
querulously.  "Try  not  to  deceive  me.  My  sister 
too  hath  something  on  her  mind.  Speak,  Amanda 
— and  cease  looking  at  Sir  Humphrey  as  if  ye  had  a 
secret  between  ye. " 

The  woman  dropped  her  embroidery  frame  upon 
her  lap. 

"Thou  art  not  thyself."  She  answered  in  a 
troubled  voice.  "  He  is  suffering  great  pain,  Sir 
Humphrey. " 

"  'Tis  of  that  pain  I  am  thinking.  "  Sir  Hum- 
phrey turned  squarely  around  facing  the  room, 
his  brows  drawn  even  more  anxiously  than  the 
woman's.  "  'Tis  plain  he  suffers.  Hast  ever  had 
aught  like  it  before,  Sir  John.  " 

"Nay — naught  so  miserable."  Sir  John  looked 
up,  startled,  and  huddled  again  with  a  groan  above 
the  flame.  His  features  shone  repulsively  from  his 
excessive  potations  and  the  heat  he  courted.  "  'Tis 
as  if  a  fiend  were  on  my  chest  that  ran  red-hot 
needles  beneath  the  flesh.  " 

Madam  Chanterell  looked  at  him  nervously.  Sir 
Humphrey  shook  his  head  and  paced  up  and  down, 
his  silence  gathering  meaning  as  it  was  prolonged. 

' '  What  is  it What  is  it,  Sir  Humphrey  Wild- 
glass?  'Tis  a  devilish  trick  to  torture  me  with 
hintings.  Speak.  Think'st  thou  I  am  bewitched?" 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  343 

Sir  John's  voice  put  the  query  huskily.  Fear  made 
his  heavy  face  alive. 

Madam  Chanterell  dropped  her  frame  and  it 
rolled  upon  the  floor  dragging  its  weight  of  whit- 
ened linen  and  silk  skeins  to  lie  unregarded  beneath 
the  table. 

"  Tis  too  delicate — for  a  stranger."  Sir  Hum- 
phrey's tones  broke  slightly.  "What  use  to  inter- 
fere— but  seeing  such  suffering —  "  He  bit  his 

lip  and  stopped  abruptly,  as  if  eager  to  avoid  further 
talk.  "I  will  go  now,  Sir  John.  Command  me 
if "  He  stopped  again. 

"  'Go  now' Tell  me — whom  dost  thou  suspect  ? 

Who  would  so  torture  me  ?  Speak  !  'Tis  no  time  for 
silence.  "  Sir  John  groaned  again  as  he  twisted  in  his 
chair.  "  I  cannot  long  endure  it,"  he  gasped,  pur- 
pling with  the  increasing  violence  of  each  twinge. 

"  Do  not  go,  Sir  Humphrey.  Pray  counsel  us.  " 
The  sister  rose,  her  solid  figure  trembling. 

Sir  Humphrey  paused  and  swept  a  pitying  glance 
from  her  to  the  figure  in  the  chair. 

"I  cannot  counsel  you.  My  feelings Ask 

some  other,  "  he  ended  suddenly.  "  I  am  not  fit.  " 

"  I  knew  'twas  that !  You  pity  her.  "  Sir  John 
Winchcombe  tried  to  rise  and  fell  back  lumber- 
ingly.  "  I  heard  it  in  the  streets.  'Twas  common 
talk  at  Monck's.  'Tis  Frances.  "  Sir  Humphrey's 
eyes  that  were  averted  as  if  in  grief  flashed  at  the 
word.  "Why  didst  thou  bring  her,  Manda?" 
Sir  John's  voice  grew  more  shrill.  "She  was  never 
of  us — she  was  always  strange.  Why  didst  thou " 

'  'Twas  thou  insisted,  thou  and  Richard  Amory. 
She  liked  it  not, "  put  in  his  sister  quickly. 


344  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"And  now  I  am  tormented  for  revenge."  The 
man  moaned  and  rumbled  in  a  sound  of  miserable 
terror. 

"  I  do  not  believe  it.  Thou  wilt  be  better  in  the 
morning. "  Madam  Chanterell  spoke  out  with 
some  fierceness. 

Sir  Humphrey  glanced  at  her  pityingly  still,  and 
again  looked  away. 

"  Better  ! "  Sir  John  cried  out  hoarser  and  more 
angrily  affrighted.  "Better!  The  Devil  take 
thee !  Nay  I  mean  not  that, "  he  added  hastily. 
"  But  I'm  like  to  die  before  I'm  better.  She  teareth 
my  very  vitals  from  me — who  else  could  it  be  ? " 

"She  hath  been  ever  kind  and  thoughtful  for 
thee.  'Twas  for  that  I  liked  her.  Think,  Brother. 
Wilt  believe  these  canting  Puritans  ? " 

"Aye — let  me  die  !  Wait  till  thou  art  tormented. 
— Who  is  it,  an  it  be  not  her  !  Sir  Humphrey  be- 
lieves   Speak,  Sir  Humphrey I  would  not 

credit  it  till  I  had  seen  'twas  his  conviction.  I  chas- 
tised the  lout  at  the  Blue  Anchor  that  dared  accuse 
her  and  pommelled  him  till  the  sweat  ran  on 
my  body,  and  even  as  I  came  into  the  air  these 

pincers  began  pulling  at  my  flesh Speak,  Sir 

Humphrey " 

"What  can  I  say,  Sir  John?  'Tis  not  for  me  to 

say  aught  concerning  a  household  where " 

The  cavalier  paused  in  embarrassment. 

"Aye — there's  the  disgrace!  A  witch  beneath 
my  roof !  I'll  turn  her  out  this  night !  Betty — 

Betty,  I  say "  he  roared,  angry  fear  conquering 

the  hoarseness. 

Temple,  above,  thought  it  was  but  the  repetition 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  345 

of  his  drunken  humour  when  the  liquor  fastened  on 
his  brain.  She  had  been  seated  long  before  her 
dressing  case  but  not  once  had  she  raised  her  gaze 
to  the  mirror.  It  was  upon  the  miniatures  she  had 
shown  to  Roger  in  the  woods.  As  she  looked,  her 
eyes  filled  with  tears ;  and  her  hands,  that  closed  the 
spring,  and  tucked  the  pictures  beneath  her  pillow 
before  she  slept,  trembled. 

Sir  Humphrey  glanced  up  at  her  window  as  Betty 
let  him  out.  His  step  was  rapid  and  he  made  haste, 
when  he  had  reached  the  Sign  of  the  Orange  Tree, 
to  shut  himself  within  his  chamber. 

The  panes  were  frosted  and  the  fire  but  poorly 
kept  a  shiver  from  the  air.  The  wind  battered 
upon  the  walls  and  shook  them  so  that  the  canopy 
of  the  great  bed  swayed  above  its  funereal  hangings, 
and  the  draught  sucked  up  the  chimney  the  warmth 
of  the  new-fed  flames.  Sir  Humphrey  neither 
smiled  nor  swore,  but  having  built  up  his  fire  care- 
fully and  moved  the  table  before  it,  wrote  swiftly 
while  the  gusts  sent  frequent  eddies  of  smoke  across 
his  eyes  and  set  the  candle  bowing  and  flaring 
dimly  above  the  page. 

Midway  of  the  sheet  he  lifted  his  quill  and  sat 
absorbed.  Then  went  on  again  the  faster. 

"I  cannot  tell  thee,  thou  pious  Fainte-Hearte, 
how  cruellie  thys  maid  hath  roused  the  man  in  mee," 
he  began  again.  "  'Tis  a  Madnesse  and  'twill, 
doubtless,  passe.  By  the  tyme  the  Gold  bee  oures 
shee  wil  bee  secure  enow  from  mee — or  any  othr ! 
But  lett  mee  not  thynke  too  much  on  her.  O 
Sheepheart — Timorous,  what  divinenesse,  what 


346  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

Softnesse   and  what  Strengthe  in   that  wondrous 

Frame 'Tis  more  dangerous  than  thy  wine  ! 

But  feare  naught 

"Look  sharpe  now  and  fynde  yf  by  the  Lawe 
a  witch's  relacons  maie  yett  inherit  or  yf  as  here 
the  whol  bee  confiscate.  It  maie  bee  I  have  helped 
defeate  mine  own  Entente  for  I  have  greatlie  stirred 
uppe  the  kettle  wherever  Suspicon  simmered,  & 
sett  it  boilynge  merrilie !  Let  the  next  Packet 

brynge  mee  Worde Altho  the  die  bee  caste 

alreadie, — and  'twill  bee  Temple  Ar milage  is  hangd — 
and  who  is  shee  !  The  other  wuld  have  been  of  age 
come  March  so  att  ;e  Newe  Yeare — we  tak  pos- 
secon  safelie  of  our  Owne  ! 

"Stil,  for  the  great1"  Suretie  forget  not  to  consult 
the  Lawes. 

"Monsieur  grew  somewhat  insolente  &  I  omitd 
the  Dispatch  wch  bro't  hym  soone  to  Termes. 
Oure  Daye  dawneth ! 

"  But  lett  mee  not  thynke  on  the  Lamb  ! 

"  Enow — the  Leopard's  spotts  bee  yet  un- 
changed so  have  no  Feares.  One  Thynge  I  love — 
more  thn  frend  or  Beautie — guess  thou  what  'tis — 
thy, 

GREGORY." 

Sir  Humphrey  dropped  his  pen  and  watched  the 
flames.  Roger,  passing  the  Orange  Tree  with  the 
even  stride  of  the  abstracted,  saw  the  light  the 
shutter's  crack  revealed  and  came  smartly  to  a 
realization  of  the  place  and  hour.  The  night  was 
dark,  but  the  wind  brought  to  him  a  sound  that  he 
did  not  understand.  He  half  paused  to  listen  and 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  347. 

as  the  sound  was  repeated  he  saw  the  door  of  the 
hostelry  open  and  the  irate  face  of  Simon  Bolt  in  the 
aperture.  The  lantern  the  innkeeper  carried  threw  a 
single  ray  upon  the  features  of  a  small  man,  heavily 
cloaked,  that  stood  swaggering  upon  the  step. 

'  'Tis  late.  He'll  be  abed, "  the  host  shouted 
with  chattering  teeth.  He  had  set  ajar  but  the 
upper  half  of  the  massive  door.  The  would-be 
visitor  leaned  over  and  by  a  quick  manoeuvre  slid 
the  bolt,  pushing  the  heavy  frame  sharply  inward, 
his  shoulder  to  the  upper  portion  that  the  alarmed 
landlord  thrust  against  him.  As  the  stranger 
turned,  his  hat  pushed  awry,  his  cloak  blown  back- 
ward in  the  blast,  Roger  saw  the  face  distinctly 
and  astonishment  brought  a  soundless  ejaculation 
to  his  lips. 

As  he  went  on  again  he  forgot  the  cold  in  wonder, 
piecing  together  new  combinations  in  the  puzzle 
he  had  set  himself  to  solve.  The  Lady — escaped 
and  here  in  Boston  !  Then  the  pirates  had  not  all 
been  slain.  What  more  natural !  In  the  haste  to 
abandon  the  wreck  fallen  enemies  had  been  but 
hastily  regarded,  and  some,  reviving,  must  have 
lowered  the  tender  of  the  Wa?rus  and  rowed  away 
under  the  cover  of  the  dark !  Did  it  mean  a  new 
danger  to  the  Maid?  Or  came  the  miscreant  un- 
asked to  levy  tribute  from  one  known  of  old? 
Proof,  that  were  plain,  his  presence  was  of  this 
former  knowledge.  Another  link  to  add  to  the 
Governor's  chain. 

At  his  own  door  a  small  and  furry  creature 
bounded  through  the  drift  and  Roger  stooped  and 
rubbed  its  ears. 


348  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"Art  cold,  Felix?  'Tis  a  bitter  night,"  he  re- 
marked gently.  "  Shalt  come  with  me,  "  and  tuck- 
ing the  kitten  beneath  his  cloak,  he  carried  him  to 
his  room. 

The  cat  walked  timidly  about  the  floor,  and 
growing  bolder  explored  bravely,  mounting  finally 
to  a  chair.  The  room  was  hardly  warmer  than  the 
air  without,  save  for  the  wind's  absence. 

The  young  man  drew  his  cloak  about  him  closely 
and  sat  upon  his  bed  to  think.  With  a  leap  the 
black  kitten  scaled  to  the  lofty  surface  of  the  coun- 
terpane and  came  rubbing  and  purring  against  her 
protector's  side.  The  topaz  eyes  now  and  again 
turned  confidingly  to  the  grave  face  that  for  some 
moments  seemed  not  aware  of  them. 

Then  Roger,  looking  down,  at  the  contented  and 
insistent  effort  to  draw  his  dull  attention,  thumped 
and  patted  the  plump  creature  comfortably  as  one 
might  a  dog. 

"Art  growing  a  great  beauty,  Felix,"  he  said 
absently.  "  Art  much  improved  in  looks.  I  think 
the  Little  Maid  would  like  thee. ". 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

IN    THE    NAME    OF    THE    LORD 

THE  Boston  streets  were  no  otherwise  on  the 
twenty-fifth  of  December  than  on  the  twen- 
ty-fifth of  any  other  month.  Men  and 
women  went  with  accustomed  zeal  about  their 
tasks  and  neither  sign  nor  greeting  hinted  at  the 
unusual. 

Temple,  lying  with  closed  lids,  pretending  drow- 
siness, did  not  notice  the  maid's  hurried  response  to 
her  good-morning,  nor  till  the  woman  had  gone  did 
she  wonder  that  it  was  Candace  and  not  Betty  who 
made  her  fire.  As  the  wood  began  to  crackle  on 
the  hearth  she  pulled  aside  the  curtain  and  looked 
out.  The  snow  lay  almost  untrodden  in  the  road. 
Sir  Humphrey's  tracks  were  sifted  full  to  the  very 
door,  while  across  the  way  a  smooth  mound  lay 
drifted  above  the  signs  of  Roger's  wanderings. 
The  outlook  was  depressing;  even  the  smoke  that 
crawled  sluggishly  into  the  grey  air  seemed  heavy 
and  without  the  courage  to  ascend. 

She  dressed  shivering,  choosing  a  warm  gown  for 
the  intense  cold  that  had  clamped  itself  upon  every 
object  and  seized  piercingly  upon  her  even  before 
the  sturdy  blaze.  Then  she  went  forth  into  the 
empty  hall  and  opened  the  door  that  led  below. 
Her  step  did  not  linger  on  the  threshold  and  she 
moved  downward  without  touching  the  balustrade, 

349 


350  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

her  foot  light  upon  the  stairway,  her  resolution 
ready  with  a  smile  of  Christmas  greeting. 

"  Where  are  the  wreaths  ? "  She  asked  the  ques- 
tion with  a  startled  glance  at  the  empty  windows, 
and  Betty,  setting  a  platter  hastily  upon  the  table, 
fled  without  looking  up,  her  apron  to  her  eyes. 

The  flying  servant  left  the  way  clear  into  the 
kitchen  and  Candace  stooping  to  stamp  the  sanded 
floor  with  its  herring-bone  pattern,  swung  back  the 
oaken  panels  with  a  frantic  push.  Betty's  sobs 
broke  out  loudly  before  the  latch  had  clicked. 

The  Maid  looked  at  the  platter  set  for  her  break- 
fast, and  turning  would  have  followed,  but 
Madam  slipping  the  bar  of  Sir  John's  bedchamber, 
that  faced  the  living  room,  came  cautiously  out. 
When  she  saw  the  girl  she  started  as  if  to  retreat 
and  then  stood  still,  her  hand  upon  the  post. 

"A  Merry  Christmas,  Madam,"  Temple  moved 
toward  her  brightly.  "And  many  a  happier  yet  to 
follow  this. " 

Madam  said  nothing.  Her  face  had  gone  a 
chalky  white  and  her  eyes  did  not  lift. 

"  What  is  it  ?  Is  Sir  John  worse  ? "  the  girl  asked 
soberly.  "  You  are  anxious.  " 

The  older  woman  shook  her  head  in  a  palsied 
sort  of  negation,  and  stepped  back  into  the  room, 
locking  the  door  behind  her. 

Sir  John  lay  helpless  within  the  puffed-out  feath- 
ers. Before  the  fire  was  set  a  stew  of  herbs  and 
treacle,  simmering.  The  man's  voice  was  choked 
and  his  eyes  held  in  frightened  supplication  to  his 
sister.  Now  and  then  he  whispered  and  she  an- 
swered him. 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  351 

"  I  am  worse.  She  is  come  down  ! "  he  breathed, 
gazing  terrified  at  the  bar. 

Madam  nodded,  heating  a  compress  of  thick  flan- 
nel with  shaking  hands.  The  house  was  of  un- 
wonted luxury  and  many  chimneys.  Sir  John's 
chamber  shared  the  kitchen  flue.  The  room  was 
the  one  warm  spot  within  the  mansion. 

'  'Twill  do  no  good She  brings  it  back  each 

time  I  get  a  little  ease,"  the  hoarse  whisper  went 
on.  "And  'tis  no  use  at  best  without  the  flax- 
seed.  " 

"  I  will  get  it.  "     His  sister  rose. 

"And  leave  me  here,  the  lock  undone!"  His 
eyes  stood  out  with  terror.  "  Nay,  try  the  flannen 
first.  Manda,  'tis  awful  agony.  Think'st  thou— - 
she'll  surely  kill  me  ? "  Tears  of  pain  and  fear  wet 
the  red  eyelids  and  spread  upon  the  broad  em- 
purpled cheeks. 

Madam  drew  closer  the  thick  woollen  bedcur- 
tains  lined  with  striped  silk,  and  fastened  them  to- 
gether on  the  side  farthest  from  the  fire.  Her 
voice  was  tremulous. 

"  I  will  plead  with  her,  John.  " 

He  moved  suddenly  and  cried  out  in  fresh  alarm. 
"  Nay,  leave  me  not.  Woman,  leave  me  not.  She 

is  biting  me.     She  hath  her  nails  in  my  flesh " 

He  tore  at  the  coverings  tucked  about  his  neck  and 
his  sister  picked  up  the  hot  compress  from  the 
hearth  and  clapped  it  upon  the  bared  chest,  re- 
covering him  with  a  firm  hand. 

He  cried  out  again,  but  the  heat  took  effect  and  he 
lay  quiescent  till  the  flannel  cooled. 

Without,  Temple  moved  to  and  fro  for  warmth. 


352  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

Into  the  deserted  living  room  came  no  spicy  smell 
of  cookery,  no  sound  of  labour.  The  kitchen  was 
empty,  both  maids  vanished,  when,  pausing  in  her 
walk,  she  opened  its  door  to  console  the  weeping 
Betty.  The  great  fire  here  was  brighter.  She 
drew  a  stool  beside  it  and  sat  with  folded  hands 
thinking.  As  she  thought,  broken  words  came  to 
her  from  the  sick  room,  and  she  stood  up  and  looked 
about  her  as  if  a  whip  had  lashed  her  sharply. 

Anger,  all  her  strength  and  pride,  showed  soldier- 
ly in  her  attitude. 

"  But  where  to  go  ! "  she  said  to  herself  aloud,  her 
eyes  upon  the  drifts  outside  the  windows. 

Steps,  creeping  down  the  kitchen  stairs,  had 
halted  suddenly. 

"  Betty  ! "  the  Maid  exclaimed  as  if  here  might  be 
one  to  advise  or  comfort  her  dilemma.  But 
Betty,  sobbing  again,  ran  from  her  with  the  haste 
of  children  fleeing  from  the  dark. 

The  Maid  stood  a  long  time  still.  When  she 
stirred,  the  tears  that  were  in  her  eyes  fell  upon  her 
wrist. 

"Even  Betty!"  she  said.  She  laid  her  hand 
upon  her  throat,  clasping  it  with  her  quick  gesture 
that  pressed  back  the  threatened  grief.  Then, 
impatiently,  she  wiped  the  wet  splashes  from  her 
arm,  and  returning  to  her  untasted  breakfast,  set 
herself  to  swallow  what  she  could.  It  was  cold  and 
she  succeeded  not  over  well,  but  something  she  ate 
and  going  to  her  room  began  to  lay  together  her 
books,  her  trinkets,  and  a  portion  of  her  clothing, 
packing  the  whole  within  a  basswood  box. 

While  she   was  yet  busied  at  the  task,  the  en- 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  353 

trance  below  resounded  to  a  knocking  loud  and  pro- 
longed. 

Wearied  by  the  hammering  and  shouts  that  as- 
cended harshly,  Temple  crossed  the  chamber  and 
threw  wide  the  sash.  The  noisy  one  had  retreated 
carefully,  hearing  the  sound,  to  the  snow-hidden 
bed  of  asters  by  the  gate.  She  recognized  the 
staff,  chief  symbol  of  the  constable's  importance. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  law "began  the  man, 

gazing  upward  from  beneath  his  high  peaked 
hat. 

"  Whom  do  you  want  ? "  the  girl  asked  calmly. 

"In  the  name  of  the  law,  I  demand  the  person 
of  Mistress  Temple  Armitage " 

"I  am  she,"  the  Maid  answered,  looking  down 
upon  him  without  quailing.  "For  what  am  I 
wanted?" 

"That,  woman,  will  be  set  forth  to  thee  in  good 
time.  Make  haste. " 

Temple  closed  the  window,  laid  the  last  things 
within  her  box,  and  shut  and  locked  it.  When  she 
was  ready  for  the  street  the  shouts  of  the  town  offi- 
cer were  again  besieging  the  walls. 

The  outer  door  was  not  yet  unbolted.  As  the 
girl  pushed  up  the  wooden  blocks  and  stepped  out 
into  the  cold  the  angry  constable  would  have 
seized  her  by  the  arm  but  she  moved  quickly 
beyond  him  and  waited  in  the  path. 

"I  will  go  with  you,  Sir.  You  need  not  touch 
me. "  And  whether  he  feared  her  power,  or  was 
awed  by  her  beauty  or  something  more,  he  offered 
no  further  indignity.  A  little  train  gathered,  fol- 
lowing with  grim  outcry,  as  the  tipstaff,  plainly 


354  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

enamoured  of  his  office,  dallied  in  needless  delib- 
eration on  their  way  to  the  Town  House  square. 

Here  knots  of  men,  leaving  the  Council  Chamber, 
lingered  talking,  their  faces  reddened  with  the  sharp 
air.  But  neither  their  grave  and  baleful  stare  nor 
the  hoots  and  yells  of  the  mob  could  gain  for 
those  who  would  have  pursued  farther  an  en- 
trance to  the  hall.  The  officer  shut  them  out, 
rapping  the  most  aggressive  soundly  with  his  staff, 
and  barring  the  massive  door  before  he  led  his 
prisoner  up  the  echoing  stairs.  A  youthful  cus- 
todian waited  below  to  admit  those  who  came  of 
right. 

In  the  long  chamber  above,  groups  of  two  or 
three  still  paused,  discussing  with  stern  faces,  or 
arguing  in  hot  debate.  At  the  upper  end  of  the 
barren  room  Mr.  Cotton  Mather,  with  the  Lieuten- 
ant-Governor  and  that  member  of  the  Council 
whom  the  girl  remembered  at  the  Governor's  din- 
ner, were  seated  upon  a  platform,  loftily  raised 
above  the  surface  of  the  floor.  Mr.  Mather  was 
talking,  and  the  others  listened,  swaying  forward  in 
grim  assent. 

"Stay  thou  here." 

The  tipstaff  left  her  and  went  forward  to  the 
dais.  The  groups  looked  curiously  at  her  and 
watched  her  as  they  talked.  None  offered  her  a 
seat  on  bench  or  stool,  and  none  removed  his  hat 
whether  it  sat  upon  a  wig  or  warmed  a  less  pro- 
tected head. 

The  Maid  stood  without  awkwardness,  without 
outward  trembling.  The  colour  lent  by  the  frost 
had  faded  and  her  own  had  not  come  back  to  her 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  355 

face,  but  her  loveliness  seemed  the  more  striking, 
and  the  silver-grey  of  hood  and  cloak,  crimson- 
lined  and  bearing  the  stamp  of  a  less  provincial 
world,  gave  colour  enough  fitly  to  frame  he.r  beauty. 

The  hall  was  cold  and  the  men  were  well  wrapped ; 
those  that  had  not  their  hands  in  gloves  rubbed 
them  together,  and  the  place  echoed  with  the  noise 
of  those  who  stamped  upon  the  floor  or  walked  up 
and  down  for  warmth. 

After  long  moments  of  the  hostile  looks,  the  un- 
broken waiting,  the  door  opened  again  and  a  small 
horde  of  people  whom  she  did  not  know  came  in  on 
tiptoes,  somewhat  awed,  their  faces  mottled 
with  the  chill.  They  drew  away,  looking  askance 
at  her,  and  watched  her  from  the  farther  side. 

The  constable  struck  his  staff  heavily  upon  the 
boards. 

"Mistress  Temple  Armitage,  stand  forth."  He 
rolled  the  words  in  a  loud  sonorousness,  and 
knocked  again. 

The  girl  came  forward  with  an  unhurried  step 
and  stood  below  the  dais  where  he  pointed  her. 
The  member  of  the  Council  started  in  some  surprise 
and  looked  hastily  at  the  other  two. 

"She  is  young,"  he  whispered.  "Is  this  the 
maid  accused?" 

The  girl  heard  him,  and  her  eyes  rested  on  him  an 
instant,  studying  a  face  that  seemed  too  open  for 
injustice,  but  Mr.  Mather  answered  him  aloud. 

"  Beware  lest  she  bewitch  thee.  Even  I  have  felt 
her  evil  power  upon  the  will.  I  think  we  may  pro- 
ceed?" The  others  nodded.  He  rose  with  much 
solemnity  and  took  his  seat  within  a  great  arm 


356  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

chair  upon  the  centre  of  the  platform.  Ponder- 
ously wigged,  full-faced,  and  substantial  of  body, 
he  loomed  large  in  the  eyes  of  the  watchers  who  had 
entered  after  the  Maid,  and  the  wave  of  his  hand 
that  beckoned  them,  brought  them  hastily  beneath 
the  platform, 

"Be  seated  upon  the  benches,"  he  commanded 
them,  and  waited  till  his  order  was  obeyed. 

Then  he  filled  his  lungs  with  a  deep  inspiration, 
and  sweeping  a  magisterial  glance  about  the  hall 
where  the  other  groups  had  grown  silent  to  listen, 
he  fixed  his  prominent  eyes  upon  the  girl  and  spoke 
in  a  voice  that  gave  to  the  air  a  full  vibration  the 
constable  had  not  attained. 

"Mistress  Armitage, "  he  began,  "thou  art  sum- 
moned hither  by  three  of  his  Majesty's  subjects 
who  would  inquire  as  to  certain  practices  of  thine 
held  of  deadly  import  to  the  health  and  safety  of 
this  Colony.  If  thou  be'st  found  unable  to  an- 
swer to  our  satisfaction  the  questions  where- 
with we  shall  pursue  the  ends  of  justice,  and 
if  thou  be  not  able  to  disprove  the  offered  evi- 
dence of  these  witnesses,  thou  wilt  stand  accused 
of  witchcraft  and  be  committed  to  the  common 
jail  to  await  thy  trial  by  the  Commission  thereto 
appointed  by  the  Governor.  Nor  will  friends 
in  high  places  avail  aught  against  the  evidence 
nor  any  trust  in  other  help  than  the  truth  have 
power  to  save  thee  from  the  just  rewarding  of  thy 
crimes.  Thou  wilt  be  given  the  lawful  trial  ac- 
corded to  others  of  the  accused,  and  if  thou  be 
found  guilty,  delivered  unto  the  hangman,  who 
shall  set  thee  for  an  example  and  a  sign  to  all  who 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  35,7 

would  darken  this  fair  province  with  the  commerce 
of  black  Hell.  Thou  art  brought  here  for  this  open 
questioning  by  two  members  of  the  King's  Com- 
mission and  an  anointed  Servant  of  the  Lord,  that 
none  may  claim  thou  wast  lightly  or  maliciously 
committed.  Speak  now  the " 

The  door  opened  noisily  and  another  group  made 
its  appearance.  Temple  did  not  move  nor  look 
around,  but  as  they  took  their  seats  with  the  first 
comers,  the  panting  figure  of  Mistress  Munch  was 
projected  within  her  range  of  vision  and  she  turned 
surprised,  and  smiled  quickly  at  Beulah,  who  looked 
somewhat  thinner  for  her  illness  and  did  not  return 
the  greeting. 

Shubael's  chubby  face  lighted  at  sight  of  the 
Maid  and  she  let  the  smile  rest  sadly  for  an  instant 
upon  him.  But  his  brother  admonished  him 
harshly,  setting  him,  with  a  cruel  grasp  upon  the 
childish  arms,  farther  upon  the  bench.  The  boy 
tried  to  draw  away,  but  catching  Mr.  Mather's 
frown,  sat  tearfully  quiet,  a  small  and  frightened 
figure  beside  the  burly  proportions  of  Jacob  Munch. 

"What  hast  thou  to  say,  Mistress  Armitage, 
against  this  charge?"  Mr.  Mather's  voice  had 
poured  forth  again  more  roundly  than  before. 

"That  it  is  false,  "  the  girl's  voice  rang  as  clearly 
as  his  own,  strong  in  its  indignation. 

"Listen,  Mistress,  and  take  heed  to  thy  words, 
that  there  be  fewer  sins  imputed  to  thy  charge. 
The  eye  of  the  Lord  searcheth  every  secret  thing, 
and  there  be  nothing  hid  that  shall  not  be  revealed. 
Nor  are  His  servants  idle.  In  time  of  great  stress 
and  trouble  " — Mr.  Mather's  tones  took  on  an  awed 


358  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

and  awesome  depth — "I  vowed  unto  Him  a  great 
and  special  service  as  the  way  should  open,  and 
forthwith  upon  the  vow  came  the  troubling  of  these 
colonies  with  the  plague  of  witchcraft,  whereby  the 
innocent  and  the  godly  be  made  to  suffer  grievous 
agonies.  So  is  the  Devil  striving  to  reconquer  for 
himself  that  which  was  his  before  the  coming  of 
the  white  men,  and  in  these  wrestlings  we  contend 
not  alone  for  the  safety  of  these  mortal  tenements 
but  for  the  salvation  that  the  malignance  of  this 
attack  hath  put  in  fearful  peril.  "  The  clergyman 
paused  impressively.  A  hush  held  the  room  in  an 
unnatural  quiet. 

"To  accuse  the  innocent  can  gain  naught  for  a 
righteous  cause.  "  Temple  looked  up  at  him  quietly, 
speaking  with  a  low  distinctness  that  carried  the 
words  to  all  that  were  present.  The  member  of  the 
Council  regarded  her  with  grave  scrutiny  that 
weighed  her  earnestness.  Lieutenant-Governor 
Stoughton  frowned  and  turned  his  head  away  im- 
patiently. 

"Peace,  woman,  and  hearken  to  that  I  have  yet 
to  utter,"  answered  Mr.  Mather  sternly.  "Put  a 
better  bridle  upon  a  tongue  set  on  fire  of  Hell.  Thou 
art  more  dangerous  than  others  by  as  much  as  thou 
hast  the  habit  of  much  speaking  that  little  adorneth 
a  modest  maiden's  carriage.  "  He  turned  to  his  fel- 
low judges,  addressing  them  and  the  people  listen- 
ing below.  "  Called  of  the  Lord  to  see  for  myself  if 
the  charge  upon  this  woman  were  a  true  one,  I 
went  yesterday  to  the  house  where  she  abides,  and 
gave  her  opportunity  of  setting  out  the  matter 
freely,  explaining  or  confessing  all.  And  first  she 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  359 

was  angered  and  would  have  driven  me  forth " 

"As  she  did  Elder  Tripp  and  Mr.  Larcas, "  put 
in  Mistress  Munch  in  an  aside. 

Mr.  Mather  fixed  his  eyes  on  her  who  had  the 
temerity  to  interrupt  him,  and  waited,  cold  and 
condemning,  until  she  grew  scarlet  with  shame. 

"  Look  upon  me  and  give  heed,  nor  fall  into  the 
error  of  those  who  idly  desire  to  hear  their  own 
voices,"  he  ordered  frigidly,  before  he  resumed  his 
narrative.  "And  when,"  he  continued,  "I  fled 
not  from  her  anger  but  charged  her  with  these  in- 
iquities she  gave  herself  less  boldness  but  set 
herself  to  win  me  by  sophistical  phrases  and 
a  wily  tongue,  so  that  my  very  judgment 
was  beset  by  the  subtleties  of  the  Fiend; 
and  when,  coercing  my  will  by  her  Satanic 
craft  so  that  I,  for  a  test,  permitted  her  to  touch 
my  hand,  there  ran  upon  my  arm  like  lightning  a 
stupefying  force  that  changed  my  sight  and  I  there- 
upon beheld  her  as  a  queenly  maid,  noble  and 
seemly,  and  sealed  with  the  seal  of  the  elect. 
Wherefore,  when  I  was  withdrawn  from  her  pres- 
ence, there  came  upon  me  a  painful  pricking  and 
discomfort  of  that  hand  which  she  had  touched,  so 
that  when  I  would  set  myself  to  write  a  sermon 
my  fingers  were  cramped  upon  the  quill,  and  al- 
though in  the  day  I  had  sat  writing  with  ease  and 
no  distress  for  eight  hours  without  more  pause  than 
needful  for  a  small  repast,  yet  in  the  evening  I  was 
thus  afflicted.  Upon  which  portent  I  prostrated 
myself  before  the  Lord,  praying  for  succour,  and  He 
showed  me  the  true  similitude  of  this  damsel  as  of  a 
direful  monster,  scaly  like  unto  a  fish  and  with  eyes 


360  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

fiery  and  shooting  sparks  of  flame,  while  upon  her 
brow  was  a  reddened  mark — the  finger  of  God's 
wrath. " 

A  stir  went  about  the  hall.  Those  nearest  Tem- 
ple fell  back  quickly. 

Mr.  Mather  observed  the  effect  of  his  eloquence 
and  reseated  himself  in  the  great  chair  by  whose 
arms  he  had  pulled  himself  upright  in  the  fervour  of 
his  speech. 

The  door  was  opened  loudly  and  the  constable 
again  appeared.  Shivering  and  weeping  beside 
him  was  Betty.  Behind  followed  one  of  the  men 
who  had  prayed  by  Beulah. 

As  the  hall  settled  to  quiet  once  more  Temple 
would  have  spoken,  but  her  first  word  was  inter- 
rupted harshly  by  Mr.  Stoughton. 

"Hold  thy  peace,  woman,"  he  commanded.  "An' 
thou  interruptest  thus  it  will  be  needful  to  set  a  gag 
upon  thy  tongue. " 

The  member  of  the  Council  moved  uneasily. 

"We  will  proceed' ' — Mr.  Mather  looked  about  the 
room  picking  out  his  witness — "to  question  those 
who  have  observed  what  is  strange  or  noteworthy 
in  the  conduct  of  Mistress  Armitage.  Bring  for- 
ward Eliphalet  Bardon. " 

The  tipstaff  came  promptly  forth  with  a  lad  in 
whose  face  importance  and  fright  had  together  set 
an  unnatural  grimace.  He  stood  as  far  as  he  could 
place  himself  from  the  Maid,  and  looked  up  blink- 
ing at  the  three  upon  the  platform,  as  if  their  great- 
ness blurred  his  sight. 

"Eliphalet,  tell  me  truthfully  whether  thou  hast 
seen  Mistress  Armitage." 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM          361 

"Yea.  I  have  seen  her,"  quavered  the  boy 
shrilly. 

"  When  and  where  hast  thou  seen  her  ? " 

"  Many  times  when  she  hath  passed  by  our  house ; 
and  she  took  the  witch  cat,  "  he  added  eagerly. 

Mr.  Mather  leaned  forward. 

"Tell  about  the  cat." 

"The  witch  cat  was  set  in  a  pillory  and  its  eyes 
were  fire  eyes.  It  cried  and  then  the  witch — she" 
— he  pointed  with  his  stubbed  forefinger — "swooped 
like  a  hawk  out  of  the  sky  and  carried  off  the  cat.  " 

"  What  didst  thou,  Eliphalet  ?  "asked  Mr.  Stough- 
ton. 

"All  of  us  ran  after  and  pelted  her,  save  Shubael 
Munch,  who  struck  me  because  I  said  she  was  a 
witch" — he  paused  to  scowl  at  Shubael — "and 
when  I  but  touched  her  dress  a  great  blow  struck 
me  like  lightning  and  threw  me  high  in  the  air  and  I 
fell  and  was  hurt. " 

"Where  went  the  witch?"  Mr.  Stoughton  also 
leaned  forward. 

"  I  do  not  know.  Captain  Verring  came  to  her 
and  they  took  the  cat  away. " 

"  She  did  not  vanish  ?  Think  boy.  "  Mr.  Stough- 
ton still  spoke. 

"I  did  not — yea,  she  vanished  for  a  little  in  a 
cloud,  and  then  came  back. " 

"Hast  thou  been  since  afflicted?"  Mr.  Mather 
took  again  the  reins.  The  boy's  eyes  grew  larger. 
He  sent  a  frightened  glance  toward  the  girl. 

"  Yea,  Sir.  Many  times  the  cat  hath  come  to  me 
in  the  night  and  spit  at  me  and  once  it  pulled  me 
from  the  bed. " 


362  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  lad  was  led  back  by  the  constable  and  his 
mother  took  his  place,  testifying  that  what  he  said 
was  true,  for  she  had  herself  found  him  upon  the 
floor. 

Mr.  Mather  dismissed  her  with  a  look  of  satisfac- 
tion and  summoned  the  other  members  of  the  group 
surrounding  her.  One  by  one  they  gave  their  tes- 
timony, eager  or  timid,  casting  curious  or  terrified 
looks  upon  the  Maid. 

The  last  of  these  was  a  drover  who  went  some- 
times to  and  fro  between  Boston  and  Andover, 
with  sheep  and  cattle,  and  often  hauled  lum- 
ber for  the  builders.  His  examination  was  long 
and  wearisome. 

"Thou  sayest  she  hath  a  rare  malevolent  influ- 
ence upon  the  brutes  that  maketh  them  subordi- 
nate to  her  will  ? "  Mr.  Mather  put  the  question. 

"  Sir?  "     The  drover  gazed  anxiously  about  him. 

"How  dost  know  animals  obey  her?  Speak." 
Mr.  Stoughton's  precise  and  chilling  brevity  was 
plainer  to  the  man. 

"I  seen  her, "  he  began  in  a  low  tone.  Temple 
turned  at  his  voice  that  had  grown  bashful,  and 
looked  at  him  with  sudden  recognition.  He  shuf- 
fled uneasily,  and  his  weather-scarred  face  reddened. 

"  He  cannot  speak  because  she  looks  at  him. " 
Mr.  Mather  nodded  to  his  colleagues.  "Turn  thy 
eyes  another  way,  Mistress.  " 

Temple  let  her  gaze  dwell  an  instant  in  proud 
compassion  on  the  shuffling  figure  and  looked 
slowly  about  the  hall.  Frozen  suspicion,  blank 
hostility,  everywhere !  She  drew  herself  more 
quietly  erect  and  waited  without  reply. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  363 

"  She  moved  my  horses  up  a  hill,  your  Honours,  " 
began  the  man.  "I'd  beaten  till  the  blood  run 
on  their  backs,  but  they'd  not  budge.  An'  she 
come  out  o'  the  book  shop — 'twas  in  King  street — 
and  she  talked  with  'em  and  touched  'em  and 
they  went  with  her  an'  no  more  ado.  Often 
too  I  seen  her  when  I  had  sheep  an'  cattle  and  they'd 
let  her  go  anigh  'em  and  show  no  fear.' ' 

"Thou  hast  seen  her  often?" 

"Aye,  she  visited  my  wife  that  lay  sick  and  gave 
her  wine " 

"And  is  thy  wife  afflicted?" 

"  She  is  dead,  gored  of  an  ox An'  I  seen  the 

witch  only  a  sennight  afore  speak  to  the  ox.  I  heerd 
her  words:  'Thou must  mend  thy  manners — wild 
one,'  she  said,  'or  thou'lt  do  mischief  yet'.  She  put 
it  in  his  head.  'Twas  ever  unruly  with  me.  I'd 
nigh  flayed  it  often  for  that  'twould  not  obey.  But 
to  her  alone  it  showed  no  rages. " 

"Enough.  Go  thy  way,  Adonijah.  Thou  hast 
borne  witness  for  the  Lord.  They  who  have  given 
their  testimony  may  depart  an'  they  will. "  Mr. 
Mather  waited. 

The  drover,  whose  breath  was  heavy  of  sugared 
rum,  pushed  himself  through  the  throng  toward 
the  door.  The  rest  remained,  closing  up  nearer  to 
hear,  and  the  constable,  at  a  word  from  Mr. 
Mather,  led  out  the  unhappy  Betty  from  the  cor- 
ner where  she  had  retreated. 

"Thy  name,  woman."  She  looked  up  at  the 
command  and  dried  her  eyes. 

"Betty,  your  Honour,"  she  answered  curtsey- 
ing. 


364  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"You  are  of  the  household  of  Sir  John  Winch- 
combe?"  The  words  sounded  like  an  arraign- 
ment. 

"  Yea,  Sir — your  Honour,  "  she  replied  quickly. 

Mr.  Mather  sat  more  rigidly  upright  in  the  great 
chair.  "Doth  not  Sir  John  Winchcombe  lie  in 
great  agony  afflicted  of  a  witch  ? "  he  asked. 

"They  say  so,"  answered  Betty  tremulously. 
"  But  he  is  better  now.  " 

"Since  Mistress  Armitage  is  no  longer  in  the 
house  ? "  Mr.  Mather  brought  out  the  question 
with  triumphant  emphasis. 

Betty  was  silent.  Her  eyes,  roving  in  a  troubled 
fashion,  had  fallen  upon  her  mistress. 

"Answer  thou.  Answer  the  question  of  Mr. 
Mather. "  The  Lieutenant-Governor  had  again 
interposed. 

"He  is  better,  Sir " 

"When  began  the  change?  Was  it  not  after 
Mistress  Armitage  had  come  away  ? "  Mr.  Mather 
persisted. 

"He  was  better  when  I  came  forth,  Madam  said. 
He  was  sleeping.  "  Betty  drew  her  breath  tear- 
fully. 

"  Could  I  not  afflict  him  still  an'  I  were  a  witch  ? " 
asked  Temple  suddenly. 

Betty  wheeled  and  gazed  at  her  intently  and  at 
the  circle  of  cold  and  curious  faces  behind  her,  and 
with  the  look  she  became  calmer  and  her  helpless 
trembling  ceased. 

"Madam  said  it  was  the  flaxseed  seemed  to  ease 
him, "  she  volunteered. 

"  Answer  what  is  asked  thee ;  save    thy  chatter 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  365 

for  without,"   Mr.   Stoughton  bade  her,  and  she 
curtseyed  again,  her  eyes  on  the  ground. 

"Whom  doth  Sir  John  hold  to  have  bewitched 
him?  Whom  doth  he  suspect  of  this  malignity?" 
The  clergyman  watched  her  carefully. 

"Madam  hath  the  care  of  Sir  John.  None  else 
hath  seen  him, "  the  woman  replied. 

Mr.  Mather's  anger  was  in  danger  of  mastering 
his  control.  "How  darest  thou  so  mock  us?"  he 
cried  vociferously.  "Speak.  Whom  doth  Sir  John 
suspect  ?  'Tis  this  maiden  here,  Temple  Armitage, 
is  it  not?" 

"They  say  so."  Betty  wept  again,  plucking  at 
her  round  black  apron  and  catching  her  breath  in  a 
sob. 

"Thou  hast  been  much  about  her  person?"  Mr. 
Mather  went  on. 

"Ever  since  she  came  to  Madam,  Sir — your 
Honour " 

"  Hast  thou  never  seen  upon  her  the  witchmarks  ? 
Think  well  lest  a  falsehood  cost  thee  a  doom  like 
hers. " 

"  Marks  !  Upon  my  mistress  ! "  Betty  dropped 
her  apron  and  glared  at  him  forgetful  and  indig- 
nant. "She  hath  not  a  mark  on  her  whole  body ! 
Who  dares  say  there's  a  mark  on  Mistress  Armitage  ! 
She  hath  the  fairest " 

"  That  will  do Answer  no  more  than  is  re- 
quired of  thee,  "  her  questioner  interrupted.  "  Look 
me  in  the  face,  Betty,  and  tell  the  whole  truth.  Is 
not  thy  mistress  a  witch?" 

"No — she's  not She's  not  a  witch I 

wish  we'd  never  come  to  this  cruel  country " 


366  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Betty  buried  her  face  in  the  apron  and  rocked  to 
and  fro  in  hysterical  weeping. 

"Calm  thyself,  Betty."  The  member  of  the 
Council  spoke  again.  "  How  long  hast  thou  served 
in  the  household  of  Sir  John  Winchcombe  ?  " 

"  Ten  years  come  Christmas Ten  years  this 

very  day,  Sir, "  Betty  looked  up  more  hope- 
fully. 

"  Has  thou  ever  known  Sir  John  to  be  thus  afflict- 
ed before  ? "  Mr.  Mather  frowned.  Mr.  Stoughton 
cast  a  contemptuous  glance  in  the  direction  of  the 
speaker  and  looked  indifferently  to  the  windows 
where  the  frost  was  still  thick  on  the  small  panes. 

"O,  often,  sir,"  Betty  answered  clearly.  "He 
hath  them  ever  after  he  goeth  to  London  or  hath 
been  all  night  drinking  with  his  good  friends  at 
home.  Sometimes  it  taketh  him  in  one  place, 
sometimes  another. " 

"And  Mistress  Armitage,  hath  she  been  of  the 
household  of  Sir  John  since  first  thou  went  to 
them?" 

"  O,  no,  Sir.  She  came  but  five  year  agone,  and 
a  glad  day  it  was  for  all  of  us,  that  brought  her " 

"  Hath  Sir  John  been  seized  by  these  attacks  only 
since  the  coming  of  Mistress  Armitage?" 

"  Nay, —  he  had  them  always.     'Twas " 

"Peace — peace.  Enough!  These  be  but  un- 
profitable questions  and  irrelevant.  Thou  canst 
go,  Betty,  "  put  in  Mr.  Mather  peremptorily. 

"May  I  be  permitted  briefly  to  question  this 
witness  ? " 

Temple  made  the  request  with  a  look  of  grave 
appeal.  The  member  of  the  Council  leaned  for- 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  367 

ward  and  spoke  in  Mr.  Mather's  ear.  The  three 
conferred,  Mr.  Stoughton  reinforcing  the  chair- 
man's emphatic  denial. 

"Thou  art  presumptuous,  Mistress  Armitage. 
Hereafter,  keep  silence,  unless  thou'rt  bid  to 
speak." — Mr.  Mather  resettled  himself,  the  judicial 
severity  of  his  manner  rendered  more  forcible  by 
irritation.  The  shadows  that  told  of  a  night-long 
vigil  showed  more  plainly  under  his  angrily  staring 
eyes. 

"Call  the  wife  of  Christopher  Munch,"  he  com- 
manded. The  dame,  who  was  nearer  to  the 
dais  than  the  tipstaff,  moved  with  some  alacrity  into 
the  place  left  vacant  by  Betty. 

"  Mistress  Munch,  it  is  your  painful  duty  to  tell  us 
aught  known  to  you  concerning  this  maiden  here, 
whom  many  have  accused  of  a  most  heinous  crime 
in  the  sight  of  God.  When  did  you  first  see  this 
Mistress  Armitage  ? " 

"In  the  window  of  Madam  Fitch's  house.  I 
marked  her  then  for  one  I  would  not  have  my  Beu- 
lah  to  know,  and  had  she  listened  to  me  she  would 
not  be  as  she  is  to-day,  Mr.  Mather. " 

Temple,  who  had  heard  the  opening  words  with 
evident  surprise,  gazed  with  the  rest  of  the  throng 
upon  Beulah,  who,  as  soon  as  she  felt  the  eyes 
of  the  Maid  upon  her,  was  drawn  in  a  sudden 
contortion,  hiding  her  face  and  twisting  her 
body  as  if  in  pain.  When  Temple  turned  won- 
deringly  away,  the  contortions  ceased.  The 
men  upon  the  dais  gazed  significantly  upon 
one  another,  even  the  member  of  the  Council 
affected  by  the  sight.  "Look  at  her,"  Mistress 


368  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

Munch  went  on  unhindered,  "and  see  to  what  her 
trust  has  brought  her  now.  None  of  my  children 
hath  escaped.  I  cannot  think  why  we  of  all  others 
were  doomed  to  be  so  tormented  and  abused!" 
Her  voice  quavered. 

"You  and  yours  have  truly  been  but  ill  entreated 
Mistress.  The  Lord's  people  are  roused  in  your 
defence.  Speak  on. " 

"I  marked  her  that  day  of  Governor  Phips's 
arriving  and  no  good  luck  have  I  had  in  aught  since 
first  a  royal  Governor  was  set  over  us.  " 

"Keep  to  thy  tale,"  interrupted  Mr.  Mather 
hastily. 

An  approving  gleam  shot  from  the  cold  eyes  of 
Mr.  Stoughton. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Sir."  Mistress  Munch  curt- 
seyed involuntarily  to  the  reprimand  of  Mr.  Mather, 
and  Beulah  flushed  darkly  at  her  mother's  tone. 
"  I  have  had  many  trials  and  I  was  ever  readier  for 

work  than  words From  the  beginning  I  saw 

that  Jacob  was  no  more  himself.  But  young  men, 
an'  they  be  pleasing  to  the  maids,  must  go  their  own 
gait,  and  he  had  held  a  fancy  for  many  he  soon  for- 
got. "  She  cast  a  glance  at  Temple  who  watched 
her,  each  instant  colder  and  more  amazed.  "But 
I  warned  Beulah  no  good  would  come  of  knowing 
such  a  vain  aristocratical  creature  who  would  not 
even  show  she  saw  that  Jacob  favoured  her.  Sly 

and " 

"What  have  you  seen,  Mistress  Munch,  that 
persuades  you  the  maiden  is  a  witch?"  asked  the 
member  of  the  Council,  stopping  her  soberly. 

"  Pray  let  Mistress  Munch  tell  her  tale  in  her  own 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  369 

manner,"  reproved  Mr.  Mather  with  asperity. 
'  'Tis  so  we  get  the  truth  most  freely. " 

"It  were  well  she  gave  us  the  kernel  and  less  of 
the  husk  mayhap, "  answered  the  admonished 
Member  settling  his  hat  and  drawing  his  cloak  more 
warmly  about  him. 

Beulah  coughed,  and  Temple  looked  with  in- 
voluntary sympathy  in  her  direction,  whereupon 
the  cough  grew  violent  and  the  contortions  began 
again. 

Mistress  Munch  rambled  on  through  devious  by- 
ways of  her  own  conjectures,  till  she  came  to  her 
daughter's  illness,  when  she  grew  somewhat  more 
coherent.  The  coughing  started  by  Beulah  had  be- 
come general  and  the  lad  who  had  testified  about 
the  cat  fell  also  into  contortions,  crying  out  at  in- 
tervals and  mewing  violently. 

"Jacob  could  neither  sleep  nor  had  he  any  stom- 
ach for  his  victuals,  and  would  do  naught  but  mope 
and  say  that  Beulah  must  go  with  him  to  see  Mis- 
tress Armitage  for  that  she'd  not  receive  him  an'  he 
went  alone;  and  thereupon  Beulah  went,  as  she 
will  tell  ye,  and  set  forth  her  brother's  misery  and 
prayed  relief  of  the  maid  who  wasted  him  away, 
but  the  girl  only  mocked  her  and  said  Jacob  was 
none  of  her  affair,  and  Beulah,  being  angry " 

"Would  not  this  properly  be  the  testimony  of 
Mistress  Beulah?  Tell  rather  what  you  yourself 
have  known.  "  put  in  the  member  of  the  Council. 

"  'Tis  that  I'm  telling, "  went  on  the  dame.  "  Be- 
ing angry,  Beulah  spoke  sternly,  warning  the  evil 
witch  of  her  ill  doings,  and  straightway  she  sickened 
and  fell  ill  abed  of  the  pest."  The  noises  about 


370  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

the  hall  had  ceased.  The  attention  that  hung  upon 
the  words  was  absolute.  The  Maid's  face  was 
white  but  not  with  fear.  The  look  she  bent  upon 
the  voluble  witness  was  filled  with  scorn  so  fine  it 
passed  for  cold  endurance. 

"Shubael  I  sent  away,  and  Jacob  went  also  to 
his  aunt  and  I  cared  alone  for  Beulah,  who  was  like 
to  die.  She  was  an  awful  sight,  Sirs,  all " 

"Mam!"     Beulah's  voice,  protesting. 

"Terrible  sick  she  was,"  resumed  the  woman, 
"and  lying  like  a  log  and  breathing  hard.  Then 
came  the  good  elder,  and  Mr.  Larcas  to  pray  with 
her,  and  at  the  first  word  they  uttered  ( 'twas  'Al- 
mighty an'  Ever-living  God')  Beulah  rose  up  from 
the  stupor  and  screamed,  and  ceased  not  to  cry  out 
upon  them  and  carry  on  till  Mistress  Armitage 
stood  by  the  bed  and  drove  us  all  forth  and  took 
Beulah  in  her  arms.  " 

Beulah  moved  uneasily  as  her  mother  talked 
and  once  looke"d  up  distractedly  at  the  girl  who  had 
nursed  her  back  to  health,  but  as  she  looked  her 
face  hardened  and  grew  old,  and  she  dropped  her 
eyes,  her  fingers  plucking  nervously  at  her  dress. 

"Did  Mistress  Armitage  do  those  things  most 
often  commended  for  the  sick  ? "  asked  Mr.  Mather, 
encouraging  the  woman  who  had  paused  in  a  sort 
of  apoplexy  of  wordy  anger. 

"Nay,  not  one.  She  did  all  otherwise.  She  let 
the  wind  blow  into  the  room  from  open  windows — 
and  gave  her  all  the  water  she  could  drink  and 
fastened  down  her  hands  so  she  could  not  even  toss 
about  and  get  some  ease. " 

The  audience  listened  with  a  lively  horror.     At 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  371 

the  mention  of  open  windows  the  member  of  the 
Council  shook  his  head  and  frowned  suspiciously. 

"And  yet  the  girl  recovered?"  Mr.  Mather 
asked  quickly. 

"She  was  completely  in  the  evil  power  of  her, 
and  hath  been  since  the  day  when  she  went  to  plead 
for  her  poor  brother.  Now,  she  mopes  like  him  and 
constantly  hath  pains  and  torments. " 

"But  why  should  Mistress  Armitage  go  to  so 
much  trouble  in  the  nursing  ?  Would  not  this  evil 
power  have  been  as  great  and  she  away  from 
contact  with  the  pest — if  she  be  of  a  truth  a 
witch?"  The  member  of  the  Council  looked 
puzzled.. 

"She  minded  it  not  for  that  Satan  would  not  let 
her  take  the  contagion, "  answered  Mistress  Munch 
glibly. 

"  Her  daughter  will  explain  that, "  put  in  Mr. 
Stoughton.  "Let  the  woman  finish,  that  we  may 
get  on. " 

"Aye — ye'll  not  need  to  hang  her  an'  ye  freeze 
her  first,  "  muttered  a  voice  in  the  crowd. 

The  judges  frowned,  and  the  constable  went 
fussily  among  the  shivering  throng,  but  the  culprit 
could  not  be  found. 

"Hast  thou  more  to  say  ? "  demanded  Mr.  Mather. 
"Knowest  thou  aught  else  against  the  accused?" 

"So  much  I  could  not  take  time  to  tell  them 
all " 

"Thou  shalt  state  them  to  the  true  Commission,  " 
put  in  the  third  judge  somewhat  wearily. 

"But  two  of  them  I  would  first  tell  here,"  she 
answered  unabashed.  "She  hath  bewitched  my 


372  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

little  Shubael  that  was  a  child  in  a  thousand  for  a 
quick  obedience,  and  gentle  ever,  so  that  he  flouts 
his  mother  and " 

Shubael  burst  into  loud  crying  and  Jacob  boxed 
his  ears.  For  the  first  time  the  girl  looked  directly 
at  the  young  man's  face,  a  flash  of  indignation  in 
her  eyes.  Jacob  returned  the  flash  with  a  gaze  of 
vicious  triumph. 

Mistress  Munch  enlarged  upon  the  malice  that 
held  Shubael  in  subjection,  then  raised  her  voice  as 
she  went  on.  "And  upon  another  hath  she  an 
awful  spell,  one  old  enough  to  resist  and  suffer  as 
hath  my  Beulah  and  my  Jacob  and  not  weakly  let 
the  Devil  have  his  will — and  that  is  Roger 
Verring. " 

There  was  a  sensation  among  those  who  listened. 
All  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  Maid  to  whose  cheeks 
a  faint  flush  had  risen  at  the  words. 

"Could  this  not "  she  began,  but  Mr.  Mather 

thundered  at  her  with  the  denunciatory  wrath 
familiar  in  his  pulpit. 

"  Wouldst  thou  be  bound  upon  thy  deceitful  lips 
that  thy  wanton  tongue  be  quieted  !  Know'st  thou 
not  what  things  are  an  abomination  to  the  Lord, 
— a  proud  look,  a  lying  tongue, — aye  and  a  heart 
that  deviseth  wicked  imaginations !  Woe  unto 
them  that  put  darkness  for  light  and  light  for  dark- 
ness, and  them  who,  going  apparelled  like  kings' 
daughters  in  rich  raiment  carry  corruption  in  their 
hearts.  Wait  till  thou  art  bidden  to  speak,  nor 
interrupt  the  counsels  of  them  that  serve  the 
Lord. — What  hadst  thou  to  say  of  Captain  Ver- 
ring, Mistress?"  His  voice,  changed  to  a  milder 


THE  COASTS  OF   FREEDOM          373 

tone,  was  still  ringing  with  retributory  fire.  Mis- 
tress Munch  had  been  somewhat  alarmed,  but 
she  recovered  quickly. 

"What  proof  have  you  of  his  bewitchment?" 
asked  the  third  member.  "  Is  he  afflicted  with  any 
grievous  ill  or  doth  he  suffer  pain?" 

"  He  hath  her  black  cat  and  hath  a  name  for  it, 
as  it  had  been  a  human  being.  'Tis  through  it  she 
sends  him  word  of  her  commands. " 

"Who  could  believe  such  folly?"  The  Maid  ex- 
claimed, wondering.  Mr.  Mather  had  not  observed 
her;  he  was  listening  intently  to  the  witness. 

Mr.  Stoughton  looked  less  pleased.  Nicolas  Ver- 
ring  was  his  warm  partisan  and  strong  supporter. 
Mistress  Munch  finished  in  a  tone  of  bitter  pique. 
"Daily,  and  often  many  times  a  day,  he 
came " 

"Roger  Verring?" 

"Yes,  Sir — he  came  to  my  door  and  oft  followed 
me  within  asking  for  speech  with  Mistress  Armi- 
tage,  while  Beulah  lay  nigh  to  death,  above.  " 

"Inquired  he  not  also  for  Beulah?"  asked  Mr. 
Stoughton. 

"Not  save  for  politeness'  sake.  He  hath  never 
given  a  glance  to  any  maid  till  he  was  beset  of  the 
Devil  in  the  stranger.  " 

Temple  looked  at  the  woman,  surprise  showing 
fleeting  in  her  still  face.  Beulah  saw  the  new 
wonder  in  the  look  and  set  her  lips  in  a  yet  straighter 
line. 

"It  was  for  the  witch  he  feared — 'twas  plain 
enough.  And  all  the  strange  herbs  and  fumiga- 
tions and  compounds  that  he  brought,  with  wines 


374  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

and  on  a  day  a  great  bunch  of  red  berries  from  the 
woods  that  I  cast  out.  There  was  no  time  for 
wicked  folly — and  to  be  bringing  a  clutter  of 
things  from  the  woods " 

"Were  these  not  for  Mistress  Munch  as  well?" 
asked  Mr.  Stoughton  again. 

"Nay,  I  tell  you,  Sir.  The  foolish  twigs  of  ber- 
ries were  for  Mistress  Armitage — 'twas  some  sign 
agreed  upon  I  doubt  not " 

"That  is  sufficient,  Mistress,  "put  in  the  member 
of  the  Council  assertively.  "'Is't  not  best  we  get 
on?"  he  asked  the  other  two.  "Mistress  Beulah 
looketh  quite  unfit  to  linger  in  the  chill  of  this  hall.  " 

"The  Lord  of  Hosts  is  with  her,  "  pronounced  Mr. 
Mather  sonorously.  "  Beulah  Munch,  stand  forth.  " 

A  quick  expectancy  crowded  the  listening  multi- 
tude nearer,  and  the  tipstaff,  flourishing  his  wand, 
pushed  them  back,  commanding  those  that  had 
risen  before  the  filled  benches  to  seat  themselves  or 
be  expelled. 

Beulah  appeared  little  like  one  supported  of  the 
Lord.  Her  cheeks  had  a  restless  fire  and  her  lips, 
drawn  in  their  hard  and  bitter  line,  were  not  the 
signs  of  holiness.  But  her  evident  emotion,  the  soft- 
ness and  meekness  of  her  drooping  figure,  the  marks 
of  suffering  plain  upon  her  face,  won  instant  sym- 
pathy. Again  a  murmur  ran  about  the  hall,  a  sound 
that  acclaimed  belief  in  all  that  she  might  utter. 

Her  voice,  modulated  to  a  pitch  as  far  as  possible 
from  the  aggressive  rattle  of  her  mother's,  came  in 
a  reluctant  undertone,  but  loud  enough  so  her  words 
were  audible  to  all  who  chose  to  listen. 

Once  when  she  had  raised  her  eyes,  drawn  by 


375 


the  look  of  grieved  betrayal  Temple  had  involun- 
tarily given,  she  had  turned  away  startled  for  an 
instant  confused.  The  confusion  was  converted 
instantly  to  a  painful  writhing,  and  she  swayed 
as  if  she  would  have  fallen.  "Make  her — turn 
away, "  she  gasped. 

Angry  glances  were  shot  at  Temple. 

"Aye,  keep  the  witch's  eyes  from  off  her," 
growled  the  undetected  voice. 

Beulah,  with  lids  lowered  again,  corroborated 
all  her  mother  had  said,  adding  circumstantial  and 
carefully  constructed  tales  of  the  sufferings  of 
Jacob  and  the  evil  state  of  little  Shubael,  whose 
cowering  figure  sufficiently  bore  out  her  words. 

"And  is  it  true  that  Roger  Verring  hath  never 
given  attention  to  a  Boston  maid  nor  kept  com- 
pany with  any — at  his  age? "  asked  the  member  of 
the  Council,  fixing  a  searching  look  upon  the  down- 
cast face. 

"It  is  true.  Everyone  will  tell  you  that,  Sir," 
she  said. 

"Yea — that's  true A  cold-blooded  young 

fellow  is  Verring,  "  commented  the  voice. 

Mr.  Mather's  gaze  sought  sternly  the  cause  of 
the  interruption,  and  the  member  of  the  Council 
persisted. 

"Let  not  modesty  forbid  any  word  you  might 
have  to  say, "  he  demanded  with  his  firm  mouth 
more  strictly  pursed.  "  Was  he  at  no  time  a  suitor 
for  yourself  ?  Gave  he  no  sign  of  interest  ? " 

"None."  Again  Beulah  lifted  her  eyes.  "He 
hath  never  been  even  of  the  circle  of  my  friends 
since  I  grew  up.  " 


376  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Temple  moved  suddenly,  so  convincing  was  the 
tone  and  the  direct  look,  but  no  flush  came  to  her 
face  and  no  sign  showed  whether  among  so  many 
lies  she  believed  this  one  statement. 

Mr.  Mather  was  questioning  the  witness  further. 

"And  what  reason,  think  you  she  had,  Mistress, 
for  afflicting  you  with  the  pest?" 

"To  destroy  my  soul, "  came  from  the  girl's  lips 
unfalteringly.  The  writhing  took  her  again.  "  I 
cannot  talk  unless  Mistress  Armitage  be  taken 
away, "  she  said  as  she  was  restored  once  more. 

"That  cannot  be.  She  must  hear  and  know 
wherefore  justice  demands  her  commitment. 
Strive  against  her  spell,  and  I  will  supplicate  that 
thy  tongue  be  loosed, "  answered  Mr.  Mather  en- 
couragingly. 

There  was  a  heavy  pause  in  which  the  clergyman 
bent  his  head  in  silence  and  Beulah's  contortions 
grew  gradually  less  pronounced. 

"  I  can  go  on  now,  "  she  said. 

"  Proceed.  "  Mr.  Mather  regarded  her  with  com- 
placency, seeing  his  petitions  so  soon  rewarded. 

"While  I  lay  sick  she  asked  me  often  if  I  would 
serve  the  Devil,  saying  he  would  requite  me  well, 
and  twice  she  brought  me  the  Devil's  book  that  I 
might  sign  it  and  said  she  was  the  Queen  of  Hell 
and  could  give  me  all  that  I  desired,  would  I  but 
put  my  name  upon  the  page.  " 

While  Beulah  had  been  speaking  the  door  had 
opened  hurriedly  from  without  and  Roger  had 
pushed  his  way  through  the  throng. 

When  the  girl  paused,  swaying  again  as  if  seized 
with  acute  misery,  he  spoke  in  a  voice  whose  ring 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  377 

broke  like  good  daylight  upon  the  dismal  creeping 
of  nightmare. 

"And  will  any  man  sit  here  and  listen,  unpro- 
testing,  to  lies  so  manifest?" 

Beulah  had  grown  whiter  than  the  Maid  but  the 
colour  came  quickly  back.  Roger's  eyes  that 
sought  first  for  Temple  were  fixed  imperiously  upon 
the  self-constituted  judges. 

Mr.  Mather  rose  majestically  from  his  platform 
throne. 

"Captain  Verring,  see  that  you  outrage  not  the 
decencies  of  these  lawful  and  just  proceedings. 
If  you  would  remain,  have  a  care  how  you  address 
those  vested  with  authority  of  church  and  state.  " 

"  Nay,  Sirs,  there  was  no  disrespect,  but  I  would 
know  by  whose  command  this  malice  is  given  the 
chance  to  so  display  itself.  " 

'  'Tis  enough  that  we  know  by  whose  authority 
we  are  assembled,  Captain  Verring.  Proceed 
Mistress. "  Mr.  Stoughton  fixed  his  cold  eyes  in  a 
warning  not  wholly  unfriendly  upon  the  young 
man. 

When  Beulah 's  even  flow  of  carefully  uttered 
phrases  came  to  an  end,  Roger  moved  somewhat 
nearer  to  the  Maid  and  waited  resolutely  where  all 
could  mark  she  was  not  left  alone  and  undefended. 

The  witness,  pausing  effectively,  had  turned 
back  her  loose  sleeve.  The  arm  beneath  was 
slightly  scarred  from  her  disease,  but  more  con- 
spicuous than  the  scars,  across  from  side  to  side  ran 
sore  and  angry  burns. 

"These  be  some  of  the  things  I  have  endured," 
she  said  quietly,  "for  that  I  refused  to  do  as  I 


378  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

was  bid.     I  pray  you  excuse  me  from  showing 
more. " 

'  'Tis  enough  at  present.  Hold  thyself  in 
readiness  to  testify,  and  may  God  chasten  us  to 
greater  zeal  for  beholding  such  grievous  suffering,  " 
Mr.  Mather  replied  with  unction. 

An  angry  groan  had  followed  the  exposure  of  the 
burns. 

Beulah  walked  staggeringly  to  her  seat  and  as  she 
fell  straightway  into  convulsions  of  much  distress, 
the  frightened  Shubael  was  led  forward  to  the 
dais. 

Mr.  Mather  looked  with  a  grim  assurance  at  the 
quivering  figure  and  the  tear-spotted  face,  and  be- 
gan in  a  tone  whose  energy  left  no  option  to  the 
answerer. 

"Shubael,  thou  knowest  Mistress  Armitage  is  a 
witch?" 

Shubael,  shivering  the  more,  lifted  his  chubby 
face,  marked  and  blurred  with  tears,  and  the  Maid 
turned  away  her  head,  not  doubting  the  child's 
reply,  and  finding  painful  the  sight  of  such  massive 
enginery  set  to  coerce  a  creature  so  small;  but 
the  boy's  voice  came  with  quick  and  loud 
response. 

"She  is  not  a  witch,"  he  answered  staunchly, 
trembling  mightily  but  gazing  upon  the  judges  as 
if  he  dreamed  they  would  believe  his  word. 

"Shubael!"  Mr.  Mather  gathered  his  brows  in 
a  portentous  scowl.  "Shubael  Munch,  thou  art 
here  to  tell  how  thou  hast  been  afflicted — not  to 
contradict  and  fly  out  upon  thy  questioners.  How 
hath  this  wicked  woman  taught  thee  so  to  speak  ? " 


THE  COAST  OP  FREEDOM  379 

"She  is  not  a  wicked  woman."  Shubael  stood 
his  ground. 

"  Hath  she  not  brought  thee  to  this?  Why  dost 
thou  cry  if  thou  art  happy,  Shubael?"  asked  the 
member  of  the  Council. 

The  boy  looked  at  him,  badgered  into  anger,  and 
half  weeping  in  his  impotence. 

"You  know  why!  You  make  me  cry,"  he  an- 
swered. "And  I  am  beaten — and  you  would  have 
me  say  a  lie  about  Mistress  Armitage.  "  The  words 
poured  out  convulsively.  He  turned  toward  the 
Maid  and  Roger,  tears  running  upon  his  swollen 
little  face. 

Roger  smiled  upon  the  little  fellow  as  if  he  held 
himself  from  words  with  grim  violence  to  his  desire. 

For  the  first  time  the  Maid's  gaze  was  dimmed, 
and  she  set  her  teeth  upon  her  lip  that  for  a  little 
trembled  like  the  lad's. 

"Thou  art  beaten.  That  is  the  witch — she 
makes  thee  to  be  beaten, "  went  on  Mr.  Mather 
excitedly. 

"  'Tis  not — 'tis  Jacob  beats  me — and  my  mother," 
cried  out  the  boy,  thrusting  his  fists  into  his  brim- 
ming eyes. 

"Wouldst  be  a  witch  thyself  like  Mistress  Armi- 
tage?" demanded  Mr.  Stoughton  with  stern  em- 
phasis. 

"She's  not  a  witch,"  the  child  repeated  stub- 
bornly and  fell  to  bitter  sobbing,  his  body  shaken 
more  than  ever  by  fright  and  wretchedness. 

"That  will  do.  This  contumacy  in  a  child  so 
young  is  proof  enough  were  there  no  other,  "  pro- 
nounced Mr.  Mather,  waving  the  boy  away. 


380  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"Jacob  Munch,  come  thou  forward  and  give  a 
truthful  history  of  what  thou  hast  as  yet  divulged 
to  none  but  me. " 

Roger's  hand  closed  upon  itself. 

Jacob  was  less  jaunty  of  manner  as  he  advanced, 
carrying  himself  with  an  unusual  sedateness,  a 
smooth  regret  in  his  sliding  inflections  as  he  began. 

"I  must  ask  your  patience,  gentlemen,"  he  said 
deliberately,  "if  I  go  back  to  a  time  when  I  was  but 
a  lad  and  Captain  Verring  and  I  were  boys  upon 
the  Araby  Rose,  a  ship  commanded,  as  you  know, 
by  Captain  Phips. " 

' '  It  were  well  to  omit  the  names  of  those  not 
directly  concerned  with  what  you  have  to  tell, " 
advised  Mr.  Mather.  "It  will  allow  our  minds  to 
dwell  the  more  impartially  upon  the  evidence. " 

Jacob  looked  meaningly  at  Mr.  Stoughton,  bowed 
to  Mr.  Mather,  and  went  on  with  his  tale. 

"  I  was  then  but  a  lad  and  might  have  been  easily 
led  astray  by  evil  practices  had  not  the  godly  pre- 
cepts and  examples  of  my  honoured  father  and  my 
mother,  and  that  grace  which  is  vouchsafed  to  them 
who  seek  with  earnestness,  sustained  me  in  many 
ordeals  wherein  another  might  have  succumbed. " 
The  words  had  evidently  been  conned  with  a  care 
unlike  the  evasive  habit  of  one  fond  of  his  own  ease. 
"  It  would  not  behoove  me  to  speak  of  many  prac- 
tices upon  the  Araby  Rose,  the  drunkenness,  the 
obscenity,  and  foulness " 

The  girl  looked  with  indignant  scorn  upon  the 
young  man,  who  went  forward  with  complacent 
gravity.  Roger  had  started,  but  restrained  him- 
self. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  381 

Mr.  Mather  interrupted  with  some  sharpness. 
Jacob  bowed  again,  a  malicious  light  plain  in  his 
shifty  eyes,  and  resumed  af  if  nothing  had  checked 
the  dull  flow  of  his  words.  "  I  will  speak  only  of  the 
occurrences  that  have  a  convenient  bearing  upon 
the  matter  these  revered  and  honoured  gentlemen 
are  met  here  to  consider,  "  he  said  mellowly.  "  You 
may  be  aware  " — he  lifted  his  gaze  to  the  platform 
and  averted  it  as  quickly — "that  the  Rose  was  en- 
gaged in  a  great  battle  with  a  pirate  five  times  her 
size.  The  freebooters  were  ferocious  men  and  were  a 
myriad  to  our  one.  It  was  a  monstrous  struggle  and 
like  to  be  a  dreadful  slaughter  wherein  we  should 
all  perish,  when  upon  a  sudden" — he  paused; 
the  listeners  gathered  nearer — "upon  a  sudden," 
he  repeated,  "  came  a  clap  of  thunder,  lightning 
played  about  the  ships,  and  the  pirates  began  to 
yield,  giving  way  most  unaccountably  to  our  blows, 
though  still  in  excess  of  us  by  countless  numbers. 
I  was  in  the  front  of  the  battle " 

The  Maid  smiled  for  the  first  time,  listening  with 
the  rest. 

"And  I  saw  beside  the  Captain,  "  went  on  Jacob, 
"the  figure  of  a  maid."  A  loud  stir,  quickly 
hushed,  rose  upon  the  words.  "Although  she  was 
in  the  midst  of  the  swords  that  flashed  across  her 
she  was  not  harmed,  and  as  fast  as  she  moved  ahead 
the  pirates  tumbled  backward,  their  arms  appearing 
paralyzed,  until  all  were  either  sent  over  the  side 
to  drown  or  were  killed  upon  the  deck. " 

The  excitement  was  growing.  The  crowd  fell 
still  farther  away  from  the  Maid,  leaving  her  and 
Roger  quite  alone. 


382  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

The  girl  turned  about  as  if  realizing  their  isola- 
tion. 

"You  expose  yourself  to  fearful  danger,  Captain 
Verring;  no  need  we  both  should  perish,"  she 
said  in  a  rapid  undertone.  "Think  on  your 
mother. " 

He  moved  nearer,  his  look  answering. 

"I  was  knocked  senseless  in  the  fight,"  Jacob 
was  going  on  (Roger  opened  his  lips  but  closed 
them,  waiting)  "and  when  I  came  to  myself  the 
great  ship  of  the  pirates  had  vanished  and  no  sign 
of  them  was  left  but  this  same  maiden,  who  had  no 
name,  but  was  called  the  Captain's  Little  Maid,  be- 
ing ever  beside  him.  She  went  always  in  perfect 
silence  and  sometimes  she  appeared  without  warn- 
ing by  those  who  talked  secretly,  nor  could  any  see 
from  what  direction  she  had  approached. 

"  For  many  months  we  had  sought  everywhere 
not  finding  the  treasure,  but  upon  her  coming 
among  us  Roger  Verring  and  Captain  Phips  placed 
her  in  the  periagua  and  we  rowed  once  more  to 
search  the  reefs. " 

Mr.  Mather  was  leaning  forward,  his  expression 
divided  between  uneasiness  and  overpowering  in- 
terest. 

"She  kept  silence  still,"  continued  the  softly 
gliding  voice,  "but  as  we  rowed  among  the  rocks, 
our  boat  stopped  of  itself  in  a  narrow  channel. 
The  oars  could  not  move  it.  "  A  breath  of  wonder 
again  !  All  had  risen,  those  behind  mounting  upon 
the  benches  to  see  the  better.  "When  the  boat 
stopped  the  Maid  stood  up  in  the  midst  of  a  yellow 
flame  and  pointed  downward.  Nopomuk,  the 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  383 

Indian,  who  drives  the  horses  of  the  Governor, 
leaped  into  the  water  and  brought  back  a  shining 
mass  of  gold. "  The  murmur  increased  but  Jacob 
had  not  ceased  and  it  hushed  again.  "These  be  a 
few  of  the  things  that  happened.  The  men,  in 
great  fear  of  their  souls,  refused  at  last  to  touch  this 
unhallowed  treasure  and  made  a  righteous  mutiny, 
and  all  who  led  the  fray  were  seized  with  horrid 
agonies  and  fell  down  crying  out  and  moaning. 
None  who  mutinied  escaped  some  of  these  dreadful 
pains  and  ere  they  could  recover  they  were  forced 
to  sign  a  compact  with  Hell "  « 

"Didst  thou  also  take  that  oath?"  asked  the 
member  of  the  Council. 

"At  the  first,  Sir,  I  resisted,  at  what -cost  of  tor- 
ments 'tis  needless  here  to  say, "  answered  the  wit- 
ness, still  smoothly.  "But  at  the  last  I  yielded, 
being  beside  myself  with  the  torture  and  scarce 
knowing  what  I  did."  Roger  moved  forward  a 
pace  and  Jacob  glanced  at  him,  involuntarily  shift- 
ing his  own  position.  Roger's  gaze  had  discon- 
certed him  for  the  moment,  and  he  went  on  hur- 
riedly. ' '  'Twas  a  fearful  oath ' ' — he  shuddered  with- 
out affectation — "and  pledged  the  ship's  company 
never  to  reveal  the  pressence  of  a  maid  upon  the 
Rose.  I  held  the  oath  binding — but  it  were  better 
to  suffer  torment  myself  than  to  let  many  be  in 
danger,  and  though,  since  the  Maid — who  stands 
before  you  there — appeared  in  Boston  on  the  very 
day  of  Sir  William  Phips's  return,  I  have  suffered 
such  horrors  as  none  may  know  (so  that  even  my 
mother  misinterpreted),  I  have,  till  my  sister  sick- 
ened, held  my  peace. " 


384  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"  Thou  didst  wrong,  Jacob  Munch,  "  Mr.  Mather 
spoke  somewhat  shrilly.  "See  how  we  be  pun- 
ished for  any  sheltering  of  evil-doers."  He  looked 
meaningly  at  Roger,  and  turned  again  to  Jacob, 
who  was  ready  to  proceed.  "  If  thou  hast  more  to 
say,  it  will  be  in  good  time  when  the  Commis- 
sion shall  assemble.  It  had  been  better,"  he 
added  with  condemnation,  "thou  hadst  earlier  told 
me  frankly  the  whole  truth  and  not  a  part  in  this 
matter. " 

"  'Tis  not  the  truth,  but  utter  and  malignant 
falsehood. "  Roger  confronted  Jacob  Munch  and 
the  judges  with  stern  assurance.  "I  ask  the  right 
to  question  this  witness.  This  matter  concerneth 
me,  and  more,  the  Governor  of  this  colony !  The 
character  of  Governor  Phips  should  prove  to  you 
the  falsehood  of  this  tale. " 

"Your  presumption,  Sir,  is  without  all  prece- 
dent, "  retorted  Mr.  Mather  in  sudden  rage.  "  These 
witnesses  come  not  to  be  the  plaything  of  any  by- 
stander ! " 

"  Had  these  things  been  true, "  Roger  insisted, 
"I  must  have  seen  them,  and  my  word  should  be 
as  good  as  that  of  Jacob  Munch.  I  demand  that 
you  hear  me. " 

The  three  were  not  listening.  The  member  of 
the  Council  had  bent  again  to  the  other  two,  com- 
bating their  negation. 

"  'Twill  do  no  harm.  An'  he  speak  not,  it  may 
be  some  will  say  the  maid  was  not  given  justice, " 
he  urged. 

"Of  what  consequence!"  Mr.  Stoughton  re- 
sponded angrily.  "The  maid  is  a  witch.  Why 
let  a  grown  man  make  exhibition  of  his  slavery  ?" 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  385 

But  the  Member  at  length  prevailed  by  his  per- 
sistency, and  Mr.  Mather,  more  hectic  and  still 
more  enraged  than  he  had  been  before,  announced 
the  decision. 

"  I  misdoubt  me  we  yield  to  Satan  in  the  matter. 
Be  brief, "  he  ordered  sharply,  and  Roger,  coming 
nearer  to  the  platform,  spoke  directly  to  the  three, 
but  with  a  clear  decisive  energy  that  filled  the  hall. 

Certainty  took  on  different  forms  of  doubt,  and 
belief  in  the  Maid's  guilt  seemed  somewhat  shaken. 

"Jacob  Munch  was  not  near  the  fight,  but  cower- 
ing in  the  vessel's  hold,  where  he  had  hid  himself ! " 
The  straight  inflections  had  at  the  very  first  struck 
home  their  truth  to  some  whom  Jacob's  sliding 
speech  had  wearied.  "Ask  any  man  who  served.  I 
can  produce  a  dozen  here  in  Boston  ere  two  months 
be  out.  None  could  be  found  who  would  believe 
his  word,  not  one.  He  proves  himself  a  liar.  He 
says  he  was  knocked  senseless  by  the  pirates.  Had 
this  been  true  and  any  apparition  had  arisen  after, 
he  could  not  have  seen  it.  But  had  he  been  fight- 
ing when  his  apparition  came,  then  could  he  not 
have  been  knocked  senseless  since  he  says  the 
pirates'  arms  were  paralyzed.  Nor  was  there  any 
man  who  ever  lived  who  believed  Governor  Phips 
had  need  of  witchcraft  to  win  his  battles !  And 
the  story  of  the  treasure  is  a  lie.  'Twas  found  by 
months  of  seeking  and  not  by  miracle.  I  was 
present  and  I  know.  If  ye  believe  me  not,  ask 
then  the  Governor  himself.  For  the  mutiny,  I  was 
there  as  well  when  the  Captain  single  handed 
beat  back  the  angry  horde  who  would  have 
made  of  him  a  buccaneer  and  of  the  Rose  a  pirate 


386  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

ship — not  fearing  the  treasure  but  coveting  its 
wealth !  And  never  was  there  unrighteous  com- 
pact made  upon  the  ship,  but  one  'twould  honour 
any  man  to  make.  A  compact  there  was — 'tis 
true.  How  nobly  'twas  kept  by  the  Captain  ye 
know.  Will  you  believe  the  man  that  stops  not  at 
vile  traducing  of  our  Governor  who  even  now  risks 
his  life  for  us,  absent  and  in  peril  ?  'Tis  to  naught 
but  the  patience  of  Sir  William  that  Jacob  Munch 
owes  his  life.  After  that  very  fight  he  would  have 
hung  for  his  cowardice  and  desertion  had  it  not  been 
for  Sir  William. "  Mr.  Stoughton  would  have 
spoken,  but  Roger  went  swiftly  on.  "And  if  he 
spare  not  the  name  of  Governor  Phips,  assailing 
him  behind  his  back,  who  dreams  he'll  spare  a 
maiden  his  importunities  did  not  please.  There  be 
witnesses  enough  in  Boston  who  know  the  double 
life  he  leads.  Nor  is  his  baseness  equalled  by  any 
save  hers  who  has  here  attacked  that  life  was  risked 
for  her.  To  bring  accusation  on  evidence  like  this 
violates  what  has  been  the  unassailable  right  of 
every  Englishman  since  the  Magna  Charta.  It 
breaks  every  law  of  justice,  every  canon  of  proce- 
dure, and  is  itself  liable " 

"Enough!"  Mr.  Mather  and  Mr.  Stoughton 
were  reinforced  by  the  constable  who  approached 
discreetly,  but  paused  near  at  hand. 

The  Maid's  eyes  were  lighted  with  a  gratitude 
that  warmed  her  face  to  a  look  less  loftily  remote. 

"Captain  Verring, "  Mr.  Mather  looked  confi- 
dently upon  his  would-be  victim.  "How  long 
since  this  Maid  entrapped  thee  in  her  spell;  how 
long  hath  she  had  thee  in  the  toils?" 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  387 

"Surely  a  man  of  weight  cannot  put  seriously 
a  question  of  such  folly !"  Roger  answered  hotly. 
"But  in  truth,  Mistress  Armitage  hath  plainly  re- 
pudiated even  my  proffered  friendship. " 

"You  champion  her  cause  somewhat  ardently 
for  one  who  hath  been  so  denied, "  put  in  Mr. 
Stoughton  with  dry  and  clicking  precision.  "  Pray 
will  you  state  that  you  be  not  in  love  with  Mistress 
Armitage?" 

Temple  grew  white  again  and  the  clear  anger  and 
aversion  of  her  gaze  would  have  brought  at  least 
a  brief  trouble  to  any  man  but  William  Stoughton. 

"Such  questions  transcend  the  bounds  of  any 
decent  freedom. "  Roger  drew  nearer  yet  to  the 
platform.  "You  avoid  a  more  important  question. 
The  point  at  issue  is  whether  or  no  you  sit  quies- 
cent while  the  Governor  is  slandered  and  an  inno- 
cent maid  put  in  peril  of  her  life  by  brazen  malice.  " 

"  'Tis  you,  Sir,  who  evade, "  shrieked  Mr.  Mather 
in  a  fury.  "Tell  me  this,  dost  thou  or  dost  thou 
not  love  this  maid  ? " 

Roger  gave  back  the  look  with  a  gaze  before 
which  his  questioner  made  literal  retreat  as  if  in 
fear;  then  his  expression  changed. 

"Yea,  I  love  her,"  he  said  slowly,  with  solemn 
emphasis.  "Though  she  neither  desireth  nor 
knoweth  of  my  love.  And  I  love  her  because' ' — 
his  voice  penetrated,  thrilling  the  stolid  listeners 
to  something  deeper  than  a  curious  greed  of  new 
sensation — "because  she  is  above  all  malice,  all 
envy,  all  things  unclean  and  common,  by  the  pure 
and  holy  height  of  her  own  exalted  truth.  " 

The  hush  that  followed,   even   Mr.   Stoughton 


388  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

made  no  attempt  to  break.  Beulah  sat  rigid,  her 
hands  locked.  The  Maid's  lids  drooped  as  if  she 
would  escape  the  throng  and  then  her  eyes  opened, 
and  she  looked  steadfastly  before  her. 

Mr.  Mather  had  risen  with  instant  and  volcanic 
rage,  silent  only  because  his  words  had  choked  him 
in  their  haste. 

"Men  of  the  Massachuset  colony.  " — His  outcry 
shook  the  air  as  his  voice  returned. — "We  be  met 
here  for  examination  of  one  accused  of  the  most 
awful  crime  of  witchcraft,  and  the  Lord  hath  guided 
our  deliberations  to  the  exposing  of  two  others, 
dangerous  malignants  and  not  to  be  with  safety 
endured  in  this  our  afflicted  town.  Therefore  the 
constable  will  with  all  speed  remove  to  the  com- 
mon jail,  there  to  await  their  trial,  by  the  Com- 
mission, the  persons  of  Temple  Armitage,  Roger 
Verring,  and  Shubael  Munch. " 

At  the  last  name  a  loud  shriek  rent  the  hall,  stop- 
ping even  those  without  the  building.  Mistress 
Munch  had  gathered  up  Shubael  in  her  arms.  Beu- 
lah and  Jacob  sprang  each  before  the  boy  with  a 
fearful  alarm  and  the  first  withering  blight  of  sure 
remorse  upon  their  faces.  The  constable  advanced 
toward  the  screaming  and  angry  woman,  but  she 
fled  before  him  carrying  the  child  clasped  close, 
and  beating  the  crowd  from  her  path  with  a  frenzy 
of  terror  that  made  its  way. 

Mr.  Mather,  still  on  his  feet,  shouted  frantically 
from  the  dais. 

"Stop  the  woman.  Stop  the  woman Bar 

the  way " 

But  Beulah  and  Jacob,  exerting  a  force  almost 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  389 

equal  to  the  mother's,  broke  through  the  half- 
hearted efforts  of  the  crowd  who  would  have  fol- 
lowed. 

The  woman's  screams  resounded  above  the  sud- 
den babel;  Mr.  Mather's  voice  grew  louder,  and 
Roger,  under  cover  of  the  confusion,  even  as  Mis- 
tress Munch  escaped,  made  his  way,  unnoticed  of 
the  constable,  to  the  door  and  out  into  the  street. 


CHAPTER    XXVII 
THE  FLIGHT:     IN  THE  MIDST  OF  THE  FOREST 

AT  the  moment  that  the  town  officer,  giving 
over  for  the  time  the  effort  to  capture  Mis- 
tress Munch,  returned  to  secure  his  other 
prisoners,  Roger  was  already  past  the  King's 
Armes,  advancing  as  rapidly  as  was  possible  without 
calling  dangerous  attention  to  his  speed. 

The  day  was  too  cold  for  any  idlers  to  congre- 
gate upon  the  streets,  and  the  few  men  who  were 
abroad  walked  as  quickly  as  their  age  or  the  bur- 
dens they  carried  would  permit.  None  molested 
him  nor  was  there  any  sign  of  pursuit.  Before  the 
Maid  had  been  left  alone  in  the  freezing  atmosphere 
of  her  cell  the  Governor's  door  had  opened  to  him. 

Lady  Phips  rose  as  he  entered,  welcoming  him 
with  evident  gladness,  although  her  face  was  anx- 
ious. 

"  Build  up  the  fire  again  Debby. — Here,  Roger, 
draw  a  chair  nearer  the  hearth.  'Tis  fearful 
weather.  I  cannot  keep  my  mind  from  dwelling 
on  the  storms  of  Pemaquid  and  the  salvages.  It 
hath  been  terrible  too  upon  the  sea.  Surely  Sir 
William  should  have  returned  ere  this. "  She 
moved  about  in  a  fidgetting  restlessness  unlike  her- 
self. 

Roger  had  not  known  her  when  as  the  young 
Widow  Hull  she  had  chosen  to  marry  the  poor  and 

390 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  391 

half-educated  ship  carpenter,  defying  a  social 
world  aghast  and  snappishly  protesting.  But  he 
honoured  her  the  more  for  the  tale,  and  had  for  her 
the  personal  liking  and  the  deep  respect  felt  by  all 
who  came  beneath  the  charm  of  a  quiet  manner 
that  made  the  direct  glance  of  her  clear  grey  eyes 
the  more  convincing. 

He  answered  her  with  an  attempt  at  reassur- 
ance, though  his  own  mind  was  troubled  at  the 
delay. 

"  Sir  William  may  be  even  now  nearing  the  city,  " 
he  said  soberly. 

"God  grant  it."  Lady  Phips  seated  herself  by 
the  blaze  and  looked  down  at  the  much  worn  letter 
she  held  in  her  hand.  "  He  saith  here,  'another 
month  at  the  most',  and  'twas  then  but  late  Octo- 
ber. Thou  hast  a  harrowed  look,  Roger.  Hast 
thou  ill  news?"  A  startled  expression  followed 
on  the  words.  "Sir  William — there  is  no  ill  tid- 


ings— 

"  Nay,  Lady  Phips,  not  of  Sir  William.  " 

She  interrupted  with  a  sigh.  "He  hath  been  so 
much  from  home.  I  grow  more  timorous  with  each 
adventure.  Hath  the  Lieutenant-Go vernor " 

"  The  Little  Maid  is  locked  in  prison  charged  with 
witchcraft.  The  Commission  meets  to-morrow  to 
pronounce  upon  her.  Mr.  Cotton  Mather  and  Mr. 
Stoughton  are  determined  on  her  death. "  Roger 
spoke  each  sentence  slowly  with  a  slight  and  preg- 
nant pause  after  each.  He  was  still  standing. 

Lady  Phips  rose  quickly  and  confronted  him. 
At  first  she  uttered  no  words  but  fixed  her  eyes 
upon  him  in  the  amazement  of  unbelief. 


39*  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"The  Little  Maid — in  prison!"  she  repeated 
dully.  "Will  they  dare  hang  a  girl  like  that — O, " 
she  cried  out  with  sharp  recollection,  "would  that 
the  Governor  were  here  ! " 

"  'Tis  well  for  them  he's  not. "  Roger's  eyes 
flamed  with  the  sudden  rage  she  had  seen  in  Sir 
William's  when  the  cause  was  terrible.  "They'd 
not  have  dared  lay  hands  on  her  had  he  been 
here." 

"We  must  act  for  him,"  Lady  Phips  closed  her 
fingers  tightly  on  the  letter  she  had  folded  and 
lifted  the  clear  grey  eyes  to  Roger's  face.  "What 
can  we  do  ? " 

"Get  her  from  the  prison.  They  have  kept  her 
standing  full  five  hours  in  the  Town  Hall.  She  will 
die  of  weariness  and  cold. "  Roger  looked  from 
the  window  as  though  to  see  if  he  were  followed, 
and  turned  back  to  Lady  Phips,  the  hopefulness  of 
action  strong  in  his  vigorous  movements. 

"  I  will  go  at  once  and  bring  her  here.  Will  the 
jailer  deliver  her  to  me  ? "  Lady  Phips  was  already 
on  her  way  to  the  hall. 

"  If  he  does,  she  will  be  sent  for  by  the  fiends  who 
placed  her  there,  and  if  you  refuse  to  give  her  up  it 
will  be  used  against  the  Governor  and  they  will  have 
their  will  by  force.  I,  too,  am  accused  and  the 
constable  is  no  doubt  searching  for  me  yet — I  and 
Shubael  Munch ! " 

"That  great  fellow  that  smells  of  musk.  I  can- 
not bear  him. " 

"You  do  well.  He  attacked  the  Governor  with 
the  Maid.  'Tis  he  is  their  chief  witness.  "  Roger's 
hand  clenched  upon  the  chair  post  where  it  rested. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM          393 

"  'Tis  his  brother  is  accused — a  child  the  mother 
picked  up  in  her  arms  and  carried  from  the  place. 
We  must  be  swift  in  planning.  The  moment  'tis 
dark  I  must  be  at  the  jail.  To  break  in  is  scarce 
possible  without  bloodshed.  The  prisoners  are 
well  watched.  'Tis  best  to  try  an  order  for  the 
Maid's  release  sent  by  you  in  the  Governor's  name.  " 

"Thou  wilt  bring  her  here  at  once.  I  will  con- 
ceal her,  "  Lady  Phips  broke  in. 

"They  will  search  here  first  and  every  house  in 
Boston  after.  They  are  bent  upon  her  death, " 
Roger  answered  bitterly.  "She  hath  an  enemy  here 
will  keep  the  chase  alive " 

"But  where — what  can  you  do?"  She  shook 
her  head.  "There's  no  other  way." 

"  Flee.  I  know  a  place — I  will  not  tell  you  where 
for  you  can  then  say  truly  that  you  know  naught 
of  it — but  I  can  take  her  thither  and  she  will  be 
safe  unless  they  follow.  'Tis  a  cruel  journey  for 
a  maid. "  The  harassed  look  deepened  as  he 
spoke. 

Lady  Phips  had  come  close  to  him  listening 
thoughtfully. 

"She  will  need  my  storm  cloak  to  protect  her 
from  the  cold — and  other  things.  How  much  canst 
thou  carry  ? "  she  asked,  eager  to  begin  her  task. 

"Put  in  all  that  may  give  her  comfort.  The 
weight  will  be  nothing,  "  he  answered  quickly.  "  If 
we  be  pursued  'twill  be  time  to  cast  it  away. " 

"Hear  me,  Roger."  Lady  Phips  laid  her  hand 
on  the  young  man's  sleeve  in  earnest  confidence. 
"  Go  now  to  the  Governor's  room  where  there  is  ever 
a  fire  lighted  against  his  return,  and  eat  what  Debby 


394  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

will  bring  thee.  If  any  demand  thee  go  swiftly 
from  the  house  and  I  will  keep  the  constable  in 
parley  till  thou  be  safe.  Nopomuk  shall  carry  to 
thee  the  packet  with  food  and  warmer  wrappings 
for  the  Maid  and  thou  must  meet  him  in  Gay  alley 
as  soon  as  it  be  fallen  dusk.  Eat  heartily  for  thy 
strength  may  mean  her  life — and  thine.  If  the 
jailer  follow,  Nopomuk  will  help  thee  put  him  off 
the  scent. — But  if  he  will  not  obey  my  order,  what 
wilt  thou  do  then,  Roger?" 

"For  that  I  have  a  plan,  but  it  were  best  thou 
knew'st  naught  of  it,  Lady  Phips.  If  Nopomuk 
be  kept  to  wait  without  the  prison  until  it  be  ac- 
complished fear  nothing.  An'  I  be  taken,  then  will 
he  bring  the  Maid  to  thee,  and  do  thou  send  her 
with  all  speed  to  those  whose  names  and  place  I 
will  leave  sealed  for  thee  to  open.  But  if  Nopo- 
muk brings  news  that  all  is  well,  burn  the  paper. 
I  shall  return  to  give  thee  word — soon.  Sir  Wil- 
liam may  then  be  here. " 

"Remember  thou  art  dear  to  us,  Roger,  and  the 
Maid  the  very  apple  of  Sir  William's  eye.  I  shall 
ne'er  forgive  myself  if " 

"Nay  Lady  Phips — 'twould  be  certain  death  to 
stay  in  Boston.  Be  sure  by  now  this  house  is 
watched. " 

Lady  Phips  looked  in  fresh  alarm  from  the  win- 
dows. "Go  then;  go  now.  I  will  bring  the  order. 
Thou  wilt  find  pen  and  ink  above  in  the  Govern- 
or's secretary.  ' 

He  waited  an  instant  to  hold  fast  her  hands, 
and  would  have  spoken  as  well,  but  she  would  not 
hear  him. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  395 

"  We  need  no  words,  dear  lad.  We  will  say  all 
when  we  have  saved  her.  Go  quickly.  " 

When  the  tipstaff,  thumping  his  wand  of  office 
upon  the  steps,  summoned  the  Governor's  house- 
hold to  declare  if  aught  had  been  seen  of  Captain 
Verring,  Roger  was  again  out  of  his  reach,'  making 
careful  haste  from  Snow  Hill  through  the  Old  Way 
by  the  Mill  Pond.  The  willows  stripped  of  leaves, 
drooped  in  strands  like  witch  hair,  blown  upon  a 
rising  wind.  The  drifts  covered  the  berries  and  hid 
the  crotch  of  the  tree  bent  camel-wise  upon  the 
margin  of  the  Pond,  but  a  warmth  rose  about 
his  heart  as  he  followed  the  path  the  May 
had  seen  so  full  of  fragrance  and  of  loveliness,  and 
he  moved  faster  in  the  shadows  toward  his 
home. 

As  he  neared  the  corner  a  dark  object  flung  upon 
the  snow  lay  directly  in  his  way.  He  stooped  to  it 
wondering,  and  cried  out  grievingly.  It  was  Felix, 
the  black  kitten,  with  twisted  neck  and  staring 
yellow  eyes,  its  soft  black  fur  ruffled  by  the  winter 
wind. 

When  he  came  forth  from  the  house  his  face  was 
stormy  with  new  bitterness,  but  he  gazed  keenly 
about  to  detect  the  presence  of  a  spy,  and  went 
forward  steadily — save  once,  when,  stopping  to 
make  sure  he  was  not  pursued,  he  looked  back  at 
the  window  of  his  mother's  room,  thinking  a  face 
was  pressed  against  the  pane. 

A  single  star  shone  low  down  in  the  heavens  and 
the  wind  was  driving  the  clouds  in  huddled  masses 
across  the  cold  sky.  Even  the  outlines  of  their 
hurrying  shapes  were  vanishing  in  the  void.  It  was 


396  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

too  cold  for  snow  and  the  wind  and  darkness  were 
better  than  stillness  with  a  moon. 

The  town  was  at  its  early  supper  and  here  and 
there  a  solitary  glint  of  candlelight  shone  out  upon 
the  snow  from  some  kitchen  window  left  unshut- 
tered. It  was  after  five  when  he  demanded  en- 
trance to  the  prison.  No  light  showed  here,  and 
the  wind,  rattling  the  heavy  sashes  in  their  frames 
and  howling  about  the  cold  walls  in  loud  abandon, 
seemed  the  only  tenant.  Nopomuk,  waiting  below 
the  pillory,  shivered,  hearing  the  wind  and  the 
knocking  and  seeing  nothing  but  the  blacker  mass 
of  the  stone  pile  within  against  the  inkiness  be- 
yond. 

"Who's  without?"  The  jailer's  voice  sounded 
terrified,  on  the  other  side  of  the  stout  door. 

"A  messenger  from  the  Governor's.  Make 
haste.  'Tis  chill  here,  "  answered  Roger  in  a  shout. 

The  key  turned  creaking  and  the  bars  dropped 
slowly. 

"Enter  quickly  or  the  wind  will  douse  my  candle." 
called  the  voice  and  Roger  wormed  himself  through 
the  aperture  the  man  left  open,  and  stood  upon  the 
bare  planks  of  the  dismal  hall.  His  hat  was  pulled 
low,  and  his  cloak  drawn  well  up  against  the  cold. 
The  flicker  of  the  hempen  wick  was  faint,  and  the 
jailer  in  haste  to  get  back  to  his  fire. 

"  Hold  the  flame  whilst  I  get  my  spectacles, "  he 
commanded  shortly.  "What's  this — what's  this? 
'Deliver  Mistress  Temple  Armitage' — that's  the 
witch !  Two  have  been  here  to  command  me 
keep  her  safe.  One  was  the  Governor. " 

' '  The  Lieutenant-Governor  ?  " 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  397 

"Aye — him.  Said  he  was  Governor  while  Sir 
William  Phips  was  still  away.  This  order  be  no 
good.  'Tis  signed  by  Mary  Phips.  That's  not  the 
Governor. "  The  man,  blinked  in  the  fantastic 
light  and  shook  his  head  in  a  troubled  fashion. 

"Thou'lt  find  fast  enough  if  it  be  good  when 
Governor  Phips  returns  !  'Tis  said  he  is  expected 
every  hour.  I  would  not  give  a  leaf  of  new  tobacco 
to  be  in  thy  shoes  then.  Best  obey  the  order. 
Reads  it  not  Mary  Phips  'for  the  Governor'?" 
Roger  thrust  the  tallow  dip  farther  from  himself 
and  nearer  to  the  paper. 

"Aye — 'for  the  Governor'.  But  that's  not  the 
Governor. " 

"  'Tis  the  same.  Look  at  the  seal.  'Tis  the 
Governor's.  Think  you  Lady  Phips  knows  not  what 
she  is  about?  Make  haste.  My  Lady  will  like  it 
little  her  messenger  was  delayed.  " 

The  jailer  looked  doubtfully  at  the  paper,  then 
thrust  it  into  his  coat  as  the  cold  set  his  teeth  chat- 
tering. 

"Come  with  me,"  he  demanded  shortly.  "I 
like  not  facing  witches  in  the  night.  'Tis  a  ticklish 
business. " 

The  short  wick  gave  but  a  faint  and  doleful 
brightness  to  the  dark  corridors  of  the  jail,  and 
everywhere  the  strong  draughts  threatened  to  ex- 
tinguish it.  At  a  corner  cell  upon  the  floor  above 
the  jailer  paused,  handing  his  keys  to  Roger. 

"  The  one  that  hath  a  red  rag  upon  the  loop  of  it. 
Open.  I'll  keep  the  candle  for  thee. " 

Roger  fitted  the  key  into  the  lock  and  turned  it 
with  a  raucous  grating  that  sounded  no  more  dis- 


3g8  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

tinct  to  him  than  the  beating  of  his  heart.  The 
dim  flare  set  the  interior  dancing  before  his  eyes. 
There  was  no  furniture,  not  even  a  stool,  and  the 
chill  got  hold  upon  the  very  bones.  The  touch  of 
the  door  upon  the  bare  hand  seared  like  white 
coals.  The  beating  of  his  heart  stopped  sud- 
denly. But  there  was  a  movement  within. 

A  figure  had  revealed  itself  among  the  shadows. 

"An  order  from  the  Governor  for  the  deliver- 
ance of  Mistress  Armitage.  Come  forth, "  com- 
manded the  jailer  in  a  shout,  "and  get  thee  gone.  " 

The  man's  courage  had  revived  with  Roger's 
presence  and  at  the  sight  of  the  girl  who  had  trans- 
formed herself  neither  into  a  cat  nor  any  other  beast 
to  fly  at  him.  The  liquor  he  had  drunk  against  the 
frost  was  in  the  bullying  swagger  of  his  voice. 

"Have  a  care  how  you  address  her."  Roger 
thrust  him  back  as  the  Maid  came  out  to  them. 

"  O  take  me,  too.  Take  me  out,  good  masters, " 
wailed  a  voice.  "I  starve  with  cold. " 

" 'Tis  Goody  Burrill, "  explained  the  jailer. 
"  'Twill  be  colder  on  Gallows  Hill. "  He  nodded 
grimly  at  his  own  facetiousness. 

"Natheless  it  will  fare  but  ill  with  you  an'  they 
find  her  perished  here.  'Twere  wise  to  bring  her 
hot  drinks  and  some  protection  from  the  air. " 
Roger  spoke  with  what  temperance  he  might,  fear- 
ing to  jeopardize  the  Maid. 

"Drinks — for  a  witch!"  The  jailer  scowled. 
"Who  are  you,  that  hath  such  tenderness  for  these 
she-devils?" 

Roger  had  held  out  his  hand  to  lead  the  prisoner 
and  the  fingers  that  she  laid  in  his  were  so  icy  his 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  399 

clasp  closed  upon  them  with  startled  pain.  The 
jailer  had  gone  ahead,  shielding  his  candle  with  a 
rough  palm  against  the  breezes  that  swept  the 
corridor. 

The  old  woman's  voice  was  mumbling. 

"Hast  thou  no  place  where  this  maid  may  be 
warmed  ere  she  brave  the  winds  without?" 
Roger  asked  as  they  descended.  The  girl  clung  to 
his  hand  with  involuntary  protest. 

"  Nay,  let  us  go, "  she  tried  to  say,  but  the  words 
were  broken  with  the  shivering  of  her  body. 

The  man  who  led  them  had  hastened  faster  than 
she  could  follow,  benumbed  as  she  was  with  the 
long  exhaustion  of  cold  and  hunger,  but  her  will 
was  quickly  overcoming  the  paralysis.  The  jail- 
keeper  listened  with  an  angry  growl.' 

"Lady  Phips  may  warm  her  own  witches,"  he 
said  coarsely.  "They'll  get  no  heat  from  my  fire- 
side. " 

The  girl's  warning  grasp  restrained  the  answer 
upon  Roger's  tongue.  He  was  well  aware  that  the 
seal  upon  the  letter  was  all  that  had  convinced  the 
man  the  order  was  not  a  forgery  and  even  now 
there  was  a  doubt  in  his  rasping  tones  as  they 
paused  before  the  heavy  door. 

But  at  last  the  bar  was  raised,  the  key  turned 
again,  and  they  felt  the  delirious  welcome  of  the 
wind  that  seized  them  in  a  maniacal  embrace  as  if 
to  draw  them  into  its  own  uproarious  delight. 

Roger  had  thrown  his  cloak  hastily  about  the 
girl's  shoulders,  and  now  sheltering  her  by  the  full 
resistance  of  his  strength,  led  her  onward  across  the 
street. 


400  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

"Nopomuk  waits  us  here,"  he  explained.  The 
Maid  heard  his  rapid  words  in  silence,  understand- 
ing what  must  be  done  and  assenting  without  argu- 
ment. 

"The — fur — boots,"  shouted  Nopomuk.     "She 

is — to  put — them  on "     He  had  appeared  from 

the  side  of  the  pillory. 

"Come  this  way — to  Mr.  Belknap's  barn," 
Roger  answered,  speaking  close  to  the  Indian's  ear, 
lest  some  night  wanderer  hear  and  follow. 
.  In  the  angle  made  by  a  lean-to  the  girl  essayed  to 
eat  and  to  swallow  the  cordial  Lady  Phips  had  sent. 
The  storm-cloak  was  lined  with  fur,  and  the  shoes 
Roger  knelt  to  fasten  upon  her  feet  were  also 
furred  within  and  deeply  soled.  Before  they  set 
out  he  urged  upon  her  again  the  potent  cordial 
and  she  drank,  trying  to  suppress  the  chills  that 
took  her  in  a  hard  shuddering.  One  after  an- 
other Nopomuk  had  produced  his  treasures, 
and  last,  the  package  to  be  carried.  It  was 
of  an  awkward  bulk  but  with  the  Indian's  help 
the  straps  had  been  adjusted  and  now  Roger 
thrust  his  hands,  stiffened  almost  to  useless- 
ness,  within  their  coverings,  and  the  three  moved 
out  again  into  the  full  violence  of  the  gale. 

As  they  turned  from  North  street,  Nopomuk  left 
them,  assured  that  none  had  followed.  The  girl 
had  quickened  her  pace  more  and  more  and  now 
went  swiftly,  breasting  the  wind  with  a  renewed 
and  dauntless  energy. 

The  storm  caught  them  in  its  teeth  and  shook 
them  with  a  vicious  will,  but  the  hand  upon  Roger's 
arm  did  not  tremble.  Whatever  weakness  had 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  401 

overpowered  her  in  the  first  moment  of  her  deliv- 
erance, she  had  subdued  it  in  the  need  for  effort. 

Once  she  spoke,  and  he  bent  to  hear. 

"  'Tis  terrible  you  should  be  so  exposed — for  me. ' ' 

"'Tis  the  one  blessedness  of  this  vile  cruelty. 
'Tis  terrible  it  should  come  to  me  through  your — 
suffering. "  He  pressed  her  arm  closer,  falling 
silent  in  the  futility  of  words.  Speech  was  well- 
nigh  impossible  where  the  blasts  whirled  the 
sound  into  space  and  took  the  breath  from  their 
lips. 

At  the  river  they  came  to  a  pause.  The  flood 
was  flung  into  heavy  waves  by  the  gusts,  and  here 
and  there  a  whitened  crest  showed  in  the  blackness. 
The  boat  Roger  would  impress  into  his  service  was 
difficult  to  loosen  from  the  ice  in  which  it  was  em- 
bedded, its  oars  encased  in  a  slippery  rime.  Once 
upon  the  water  the  darkness  seemed  to  close 
more  heavily  about  them,  but  virile  strokes 
drove  the  firm  craft  straining  toward  the  op- 
posite shore  and  neither  the  wind  nor  the  dark 
prevailed. 

The  woods  made  a  cover  from  the  blast  and  the 
early  snows  had  barely  hid  the  ground  beneath  the 
trees. 

"When  it  is  safe  we  will  rest  and  have  a  fire." 
Roger  spoke  once  more,  setting  a  quieter  pace  for 
their  going.  "There  is  a  spot  a  little  beyond 
among  the  rocks. " 

She  answered  the  anxiety  in  his  tones  with  un- 
faltering confidence. 

"  I  am  warmer There  is  no  haste  for  fire.  " 

When  the  cry  of  the  wolves  came  to  them  on  the 


402  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

crying  wind  she  drew  nearer,  her  hand  tightening 
upon  his  arm,  but  her  step  went  without  wavering 
beside  his,  and  the  night  that  shut  them  in,  wild 
and  desolate  as  it  was,  brought  to  them  keener 
happiness  than  the  perfumed  May. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 

THREATS  FOR  THE  GOVERNOR 

THE  Governor  hath  returned  ! " 
"Thou  art  sure?" 
"Aye.    I  saw  him  as  I  came.    The  expedi- 
tion hath  gotten  back. " 

The  morning  after  the  flight  the  air  was  still  and 
clear.  The  sun  shone  pleasantly  and  eased  the  grip 
of  the  cold.  The  two  men  who  stood  talking 
shouted  at  each  other  across  Sudbury  street.  One 
was  digging  out  the  path  before  his  door. 

"What  is  that,  Tobias?"  Mr.  Stoughton  reined 
up  his  horse  and  leaned  toward  the  wielder  of  the 
shovel.  "  Sir  William  Phips  in  Boston  ?  I  had  no 
news  of  it. " 

"  He  hath  but  now  reached  his  house,  Sir.  "  The 
man  struck  the  shovel  into  the  drift  and  advanced 
to  the  side  of  the  sleigh.  "I  saw  him  as  I  came 
from  delivering  the  milk  to  Mr.  Henchman's  place. 
Lady  Phips,  they  say,  fair  wept  for  joy.  Hath  the 
constable  caught  Christopher  Munch 's  boy  ?  'Twas 
said  Mistress  Munch  had  fled  and  the  child  with 
her. " 

"Good-morrow,  Governor  Stoughton."  Sir 
Humphrey  Wildglass,  pausing  beside  them,  lifted 
his  hat  with  a  respectful  gesture. 

Mr.  Stoughton  greeted  him  with  a  courteous 
relaxing  of  the  muscles  of  his  face  and  drove  his 
horse  nearer  to  the  walk. 

"  Will  you  not  ride  ? "  he  asked. 

403 


404  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"  I  give  you  thanks,  Sir.  'Twill  be  most  agree- 
able, though  I  go  but  to  Marlborough  street.  " 

The  cavalier  stepped  blithely  into  the  box  of  the 
wide  vehicle  and  seated  himself  beside  the  Lieu- 
tenant-Governor,  drawing  the  robes  across  his 
knees. 

"  'Tis  a  time  of  much  anxiety  for  this  colony  and 
great  stress  for  those  who  bear  its  burdens, "  he 
began  with  sympathy. 

Mr.  Stoughton's  face  relaxed  still  more. 

"You  are  right,  Sir  Humphrey,"  he  answered 
shortly. 

"The  courage  to  hold  firm  to  hard  and  onerous 
duties  is  not  every  man's.  I  would  not  misjudge 
him  who  holds  their  Majesties'  commission  but  I 
have  thought  it  not  altogether  without  divine  pur- 
pose that  one  more  strenuous  should  be  at  the 
helm  in  this  crisis.  I  speak  too  frankly,  it  may 
be,  but  I  have  considered  with  great  earnestness 
the  Providence  of  the  delay  that  holds  Sir  William 
at  Pemaquid, "  he  finished  confidentially. 

Mr.  Stoughton  regarded  him  in  silence. 

"It  is  a  grievous  time,"  he  answered  after  a 
pause.  "And  it  grows  daily  worse. "  He  brought 
the  whip  down  sharply  upon  the  mare's  back. 

"Meets  the  Commission  soon?"  Sir  Hum- 
phrey tucked  the  robes  closer  and  smiled  as  the 
bells  upon  the  harness  broke  into  a  cheerful  peal  at 
the  suddenly  accelerated  pace.  The  horse  was 
the  finest  of  those  that  ran  or  plodded  in  the  fast- 
awakening  streets.  It  was  truly  a  fair  morning. 
Even  the  women  who  had  come  forth  to  do  their 
purchasing  chatted  at  the  corners  of  the  streets. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM          405 

"The  Commission,  when  doth  it  meet?"  per- 
sisted Sir  Humphrey. 

Mr.  Stoughton  roused  himself  from  a  heavy  pre- 
occupation and  the  sleigh  swung,  lurching  about, 
as  they  whirled  into  Queen  street. 

"  I  fear  there  will  be  opposition  to  the  doing  of  a 
plain  duty,  "  he  vouchsafed.  "  I  would  the  execu- 
tions had  been  over  before  Sir  William  Phips  re- 
turned. He  is  come  back. " 

Sir  Humphrey's  face  lost  its  look  of  pious  cheer- 
fulness and  he  turned  abruptly. 

"  He  will  interfere  ? " 

"He  will  do  more,"  said  Mr.  Stoughton  grimly. 
"  He  will  prevent  the  doing  of  justice  to  the  Arch 
Enemy  in  the  shape  of  Mistress  Armitage  and  he 
will  forbid  all  effort  to  discover  Captain  Verring  or 
the  boy.  He  may  even  find  a  way  to  let  Goody 
Burrill  go  scot  free  to  work  harm  among  the  right- 
eous."  His  eyes  snapped  with  cold  fire.  "The 
affair  should  have  been  hastened,  "  he  ended  impa- 
tiently, "but  Mr.  Mather  would  first  investigate 
on  his  own  behalf  and  then  go  through  the  needless 
folly  of  examination.  Had  the  Commission  tried 
the  cases  we  could  have  finished  the  executions 
ere  now. " 

"  I  have  no  influence  with  Sir  William  Phips, 
but  I  bear  certain  secret  commissions  from  their 
Majesties  to  urge  great  zeal  in  this  stamping  out  of 
witchcraft.  It  might  be  well  to  lay  these  matters 
before  the  Governor. " 

Mr.  Stoughton  turned  to  him  with  some  eager- 
ness. 

"  Pray  do  so — and  with  all  speed, "  he  said. 


4o6  THE  COAST  OP  FREEDOM 

Their  steed,  taking  her  own  gait  on  the  hill,  had 
drawn  up  without  guidance  at  the  prison  door. 
Mr.  Stoughton  did  not  get  out,  but  waited,  frown- 
ing toward  the  entrance. 

Steps  were  heard  within  and  the  creaking  of  the 
key  in  the  lock;  then  the  jailer,  a  muffler  about  his 
head,  came  forth  to  them,  an  anxious  expression  on 
the  features  framed  by  the  woollen  scarf. 

"Thou  hast  thy  prisoners  safe?  They  may 
shortly  be  required  of  thee,  "  began  the  Lieutenant 
Governor  peremptorily. 

"  It  was  right  and  regular — the  order,  Sir  ? "  asked 
the  jailer,  coming  nearer  to  the  sleigh  and  speak- 
ing so  the  passers-by  might  not  hear  the  words. 

"What  order?"  Mr.  Stoughton  drew  his  brows 
close,  the  upraised  whip  held  above  the  horse. 

"  Lady  Phips's  order  in  Sir  William's  name — and 
with  the  Governor's  seal " 

"Order  for  what?"  broke  in  Sir  Humphrey. 
"Speak,  fellow." 

"To  release  Mistress  Armitage " 

"  Thou  hast  let  Mistress  Armitage  escape  ? "  Mr. 
Stoughton  lifted  his  whip  higher  as  if  to  bring  it 
down  upon  the  man's  shoulders,  but  the  jailer  had 
taken  himself  quickly  out  of  reach,  and  the  Lieu- 
tenant Governor  thought  better  of  his  impulse, 
snapping  the  lash  furiously  after  the  retreating  fig- 
ure. "Hear,  thou  varlet, "  he  shouted.  "This 
shall  cost  thee  thy  place.  Come  thou  hither  and  an- 
swer my  questions  an'  thou'dst  not  have  worse  be- 
fal  thee.  The  end  of  them  that  have  traffic  with 
witches  is  one  with  theirs.  Who  took  Mistress 
Armitage  away  ? " 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  407 

"A  messenger  from  Lady  Phips;  a  youth  who 
commanded  me  as  I  had  been  his  servant. " 

"Verring!"  Sir  Humphrey  bit  his  lip,  mutter- 
ing something  beneath  his  breath  of  which  Mr. 
Stoughton  caught  but  one  word. 

"'Game!'  Aye  he  shall  find  others  can  play 
this  Devil's  game  as  well  as  he, "  he  ejaculated 
harshly. 

"  'Tis  Lady  Phips  deserves  thy  wrath,  not  me," 
quavered  the  anxious  official.  "I  had  no  wish  to 
set  the  beldame  free. " 

"  I  go  to  the  Governor.  Will  you  attend  me  and 
make  those  representations  whereof  you  spoke? 
They  may  have  a  weight  with  him,  though  he  is 

but    a    hot-headed "     He    stopped    in    time, 

turning  the  sleigh  in  the  narrow  space  beside  the 
pillory. 

"You  were  not  minded  to  be  taken  literally 
when  you  said  that  the  Governor  could  prevent  the 
execution  ? "  asked  Sir  Humphrey  quietly. 

"He  is  pledged  to  accept  the  decision  of  the 
Commission,  but  I  dare  not  trust  to  his  obedi- 
ence. A  royal  Governor  hath  power  to  thwart 
and  delay  the  action  of  justice.  All  three, "  he 
broke  out  sternly,  "let  loose  like  firebrands  to 
destroy " 

"The  boy — the  young  lad  Munch — surely  he  may 
be  recovered  to  a  better  mind?"  put  in  his  com- 
panion, "lean  see  that  the  other  two  are  vastly 
dangerous " 

Mr.  Stoughton  interrupted.  "A  witch  is  a 
witch.  They  should  all  three  be  hanged,  and 
promptly. " 


4o8          THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  Governor  sat  smoking  in  his  chamber.  Lady 
Phips  watched  him  and  went  to  and  fro,  replenish- 
ing the  fire  with  her  own  hands  and  stopping  to 
set  nearer  to  his  hand  the  lacquered  tobacco  box  or 
to  lift  a  coal  from  the  hearth  to  light  the  refilled 
pipe. 

The  Governor  had  been  silent,  anxious  trouble 
brooding  in  his  look,  but  half  relaxed  from  battle 
with  the  elements. 

"•  'Tis  a  fearful  thing,  Mary.  Who  knows — there 
may  be  others  as  innocent,  perished  by  the  Com- 
mission !  But  my  Little  Maid — and  Roger  too — 
I  should  have  been  in  Boston.  "  Anger  rose  again, 
mastering  his  thinking.  "How  dared  they — 
Stoughton  and  Cotton  Mather  to  make  themselves 
the  easy  tools  of  Jacob  Munch !  I  could  throttle 
them  for  their  fools'  cruelty — the " 

"The  Lieutenant  Governor  and  Sir  Humphrey 
Wildglass  to  see  Sir  William, "  announced  Debby, 
entering  upon  her  knock.  "  They  wait  below,  Sir.  " 
She  dropped  a  curtsey,  her  eyes  brightening  with 
contentment  at  his  presence  and  went  noiselessly 
away. 

"Thou  wilt  remember,  William."  Lady  Phips 
came  closer  to  him,  pleading.  "Mr.  Stoughton 
asks  nothing  better  than  to  provoke  thee  to  vio- 
lence. 'Tis  one  thing  to  cane  a  King's  officer  for 
his  insolence " 

"Fear  not,  Mary.  This  Sir  Humphrey  hath  a 

tongue  wily  as  Satan's.  For  the  Maid's  sake " 

The  Governor  brought  his  fist  upon  his  chair  arm 
with  resounding  force. 

"William — for  my  sake,  too,"  his  wife  begged 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  409 

anxiously.  "Think  how  they  seek  excuse  against 
thee  with  the  King.  Let  not  their  wicked  machi- 
nations come  to  aught.  Be  wise  and  give  them 
no  pretence. " 

"Be  not  anxious,"  he  answered.  "I  have  cost 
thee  much  in  anxiousness, "  he  added,  shaking  his 
head.  "Think'st  thou  I'm  worth  it?"  He  laid  his 
great  hand  sturdily  upon  the  fingers  that  hindered 
him  and  smiled  half  ruefully. 

"Aye,  William,  worth  it  a  thousand  times. 
There  never  was  thy  like.  Go — lest  Mr.  Stoughton 
be  angered  that  thou  keep'st  him  waiting. " 

Lady  Phips  paced  steadily  to  and  fro,  listening 
for  a  sign  of  quarrel,  fearing  much,  for  the  greatness 
of  the  provocation,  but  all  went  with  seeming 
smoothness,  and  the  voices  below  sounded  equally 
deliberate  and  well  controlled.  Debby  came  and 
went,  bringing  great  sticks  to  wait  their  turn  upon 
the  gleaming  andirons  and  the  sun  lay  warm  upon 
the  hearth  rug  where  a  deer  woven  of  red  woollen 
rags  bounded  from  a  hunter  whose  gun  seemed  like 
to  tangle  in  the  tops  of  trees. 

The  minutes  passed  but  slowly,  and  after  ten  were 
counted  out  upon  her  jewelled  watch  the  anxious 
wife  descended  to  the  kitchen  to  prepare  with  her 
own  hands  the  tray  of  spice  cakes  and  glazed 
almonds  with  a  posset  of  mulled  wine  to  set  before 
the  enemies  of  her  house.  She  watched  Debby 
carry  it  to  the  parlour,  and  hesitated  upon  the  stair, 
uncertain  whether  to  interrupt  the  conference  with 
greetings  that  would  revolt  her  in  the  uttering,  or 
to  return  and  set  herself  to  her  abandoned  sewing. 

"You  then  refuse  to  fulfil  the  just  and  lawful 


4io  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

demands  of  your  high  office,  Sir  !  The  matter  shall 

be  laid  before  the  Council "  Mr  Stoughton's 

voice  came  to  her,  raised  in  a  paroxysm  of  un- 
mastered  rage.  "We  shall  see,  Sir  William  Phips, 
whether  thou  wilt  persist  in  this  despotism.  An' 
you  put  not  the  whole  town  on  the  track  of  these 
fugitives,  and  allow  the  law  to  accomplish  its  own 
vengeance  upon  their  crimes  you  shall  repent  it!" 

"  'Twill  surely  appear  to  Governor  Phips  the 
wisest  method  to  let  this  matter  be  brought  to  a 
lawful  end,  I  myself  am  not  without  a  personal 
grief  in  these  events. "  Sir  Humphrey  paused,  a 
most  natural  break  in  his  even  tones.  "But  'tis 
my  plain  and  most  unpleasant  duty,  an'  there  be  not 
strong  measures  taken  to  discover  and  put  to  trial 
all  accused  of  witchcraft,  to  communicate  these 
facts  to  their  Majesties  to  whom  I  am  sworn  to 
make  truthful  report  af  all  such  matters.  But  I 
would  not  so  report  till  I  had  laid  the  plain  com- 
missions before  Sir  William  in  his  own  person. " 

"Their  Majesties — having  good  knowledge  of 
Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass,  and  his  incorruptible 
loyalty — will  be  vastly  impressed!"  The  Gov- 
ernor kept  his  voice  on  a  level  that  might  not  pene- 
trate to  the  rooms  above,  but  its  unwonted  de- 
liberation of  utterance  was  ominous. 

"We  are  not  here  to  listen  to  sneers  nor  taunts; 
we  come  for  your  plain  declaration  and  we  have  it.  " 
Mr.  Stoughton  brought  out  the  words  with  some 
triumph  in  .the  exasperation. 

"  You  have  my  answer,  and  I  stand  by  it.  "  The 
Governor's  voice  was  still  kept  rigidly  to  its  level 
but  the  words  rang  soundly.  "  I  must  beg  to  hold 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  41 1 

myself  responsible  neither  to  the  Lieutenant- 
Governor,  nor  to  the  stranger  who  calls  himself  Sir 
Humphrey  Wildglass,  in  the  conduct  of  an  office 
for  whose  faithful  discharge  I  will  answer  to  the 
King.  If  you  have  no  further  business,  gentle- 
men, pray  refresh  yourselves  ere  you  go  forth  again 
into  the  cold?" 

Debby  had  set  her  tray  upon  the  stand  and 
slipped  hastily  away.  The  mulled  wine  brought 
an  appetizing  whiff  upon  the  air  and  Sir  Humphrey 
poured  a  cup  of  the  steaming  liquid  and  lifted  it 
to  his  lips  with  a  courtly  genuflexion. 

"I  drink  your  better  mind — and  manners — Sir 
William, "  he  murmured  softly,  sipping  delicately 
as  he  spoke. 

"I  neither  drink  nor  eat  where  evil  practices  be 
shielded  and  encouraged. "  Mr.  Stoughton  spoke 
again  with  the  cold  precision  of  his  natural  manner. 
"Look  to  yourself,  William  Phips,  and  your  own 
household,  lest  the  vileness  you  allow  to  wax  fat 
in  public  be  safely  hiding  at  your  bed  and  board. 
What  spell  and  devilish  enchantment  may  not  be 
in  aught  beneath  this  roof " 

Sir  Humphrey  interrupted. 

"Why  warn  him  of  that,  Mr.  Stoughton.  He 
will  scarce  give  you  credence."  The  cavalier  set 
the  cup  upon  the  tray  and  dropped  the  almond  he 
picked  up,  as  if  the  Lieutenant-Governor's  words 
had  much  impressed  him. 

"Speak  out  and  deal  not  in  inuendoes. "  Sir 
William  addressed  himself  to  Mr.  Stoughton,  ignor- 
ing the  other  as  if  the  sight  of  him  roused  an  anger 
he  might  not  control.  "Would  you  revenge  your- 


4i2  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

self  upon  my  faithful  servants,  accusing  them  be- 
cause I  will  not  yield  ?  Speak  if  you  be  not  afraid. " 

"Aye,  Sir  William  Phips,  I  will  speak  and  may 
God  have  mercy  upon  a  soul  set  to  thwart  His  will.  " 
Mr.  Stoughton  brought  out  his  words  with  the 
careful,  clipped  utterance  that  seldom  lost  itself 
in  any  greater  animation,  "  'Tis  no  servant,  but 
one  higher  I  accuse.  Nor  I  alone.  'Tis  the  public 
that  accuses.  Who  took  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
law  a  proven  witch,  compelling  the  jailer  by  a " 

"But  Roger  is  already  accused,"  the  Governor 
interrupted.  He  was  keeping  his  promise  under 
terrible  strain. 

"Not  Roger  Verring — but  Lady  Phips,"  ended 
the  precise  voice. 

The  Governor  took  one  step  forward  and  Mr. 
Stoughton  backed  suddenly,  upsetting  the  stand 
and  the  silver  pitcher,  that  rolled  against  the  cabi- 
net beneath  the  gold  cup  glowing  undisturbed 
within  the  ebony. 

The  Governor  had  flung  the  door  wide  and  his 
face,  that  had  been  for  an  instant  terribly  con- 
vulsed, turned  to  them  white  and  scorching  in  its 
fury. 

"Begone!"  he  shouted.  "Out  of  my  sight!" 
The  words  shook  the  very  foundations  of  the  build- 
ing and  set  the  prisms  jangling  upon  the  candelabra 
swung  above.  "Faster,  ye  persecutors  of  the  in- 
nocent   Take  your  vile  plots  out  of  this  house 

— and  dare  repeat  within  the  limits  of  the  universe 
this  slander  ye  have  uttered  here  and  I  will  flay  ye 
both  alive  and  the  King  will  hold  me  justified.  " 

The  door  clanged  on  the  hastily  retreated  figures. 
Even  Sir  Humphrey  had  not  lingered  upon  his  exit. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE  HUT    IN    THE    WILDERNESS 

AT  dawn  of  the  Christmas  morrow  the  wind 
had  fallen  in  the  woods  as  well,  and  the  ris- 
ing sun  had  glinted  through  bare  branches 
with  a  prophecy  of  coming  warmth. 

Temple  leaned  more  heavily  upon  Roger's  arm. 
There  were  shadows  under  her  wide  eyes  and  signs 
of  pain  about  the  clean-curved  lips. 

Thrice  they  paused  upon  a  hard  ascent  for  her  to 
gather  strength. 

"We  might  have  come  a  shorter  way  but  'twas 
even  rougher,  "  Roger  said,  as  much  to  himself  as 
to  the  Maid,  his  face  more  worn  than  hers,  so 
greatly  her  weariness  oppressed  him. 

She  smiled  at  him  as  if  it  had  been  most  com- 
fortable to  feel  one's  way  at  night  upon  ledges  and 
down  steep  hills,  and  to  stumble  through  snow  and 
cold  where  the  whole  garrison  of  the  darkened 
forest  flocked  to  hinder  passage. 

Her  smile  eased  the  trouble  of  his  thoughts. 
"  'Twas  better  this  way  and  we  have  the  light  for 
the  worst  climb  of  all,  "  she  said. 

'  'Tis  but  little  farther.  Beyond  the  brow  here, 
unless  I  have  forgotten. "  Roger  glanced  eagerly 
about  him  as  they  went  on.  "  Aye,  and  there's  the 
smoke  from  the  chimney  now. " 

The  girl's  eyes  grew  moist  in  the  relief,  and  they 
mounted  the  rest  of  the  way  in  silence. 


414 


In  the  little  clearing  on  the  farther  side  the  snow 
lay  almost  untrodden,  and  about  the  log  house  set 
beneath  them  the  smoke  was  the  only  evidence  of 
habitation. 

At  Roger's  knock  there  was  a  startled  sound, 
then  eyes  peered  through  a  slide  within  the  door. 

"  Tis  Roger  Verring,  Mother  Lindwell.  We 
t  " 

The  door  swung  quickly  open  and  eager  hands 
drew  them  into  the  dark  interior. 

"Merciful  save  us,  Roger,  an'  what  bring'stthee 
here.  Hast  married  a  Quakeress  and  run  away? 

Thou'st  frozen  her Poor  thing — poor  thing. 

There,  there,  my  dear,  sit  here  till  I  can  warm  thy 
hands. " 

The  woman  who  had  admitted  them  guided  the 
girl  to  a  rough  settle  and  pushed  Roger  away  when 
he  would  help  about  the  fastenings  of  her  hood  and 
cloak. 

"  Nay,  see  to  thyself.     I'll  tend  to  her,  "  she  said. 

The  room  was  close  and  the  warm  air  set  chilled 
flesh  stinging  with  pain  almost  unbearable.  The 
girl's  ringers  were  too  stiff  to  be  of  use  and  the 
woman  worked  over  her  as  if  she  had  been  a  baby, 
pausing  only  once  to  look  up  at  Roger  with 
sharp  little  eyes  that  missed  nothing  in  their 
search. 

"Art  clean  fordone,  lad,  and  hast  frosted  thy 
cheeks.  Here  Trott,  bestir  thy  bones.  Get  snow 
for  Master  Roger,  and  thaw  the  frost  out. "  A 
silent  figure  rose  from  the  other  end  of  the  settle, 
deposited  a  child  that  wailed  at  being  left,  and 
went  forth  obediently. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  415 

"  'Tis  hungry, "  the  mother  explained  shortly. 
"I  fear  me,  Master  Roger,  thou'st  come  to  an  ill 
place,  for  we  be  well-nigh  starved.  Naught  but 
dried  corn  and  a  bit  of  hog's  fat  in  two  weeks,  and 
Trott  laid  by  with  a  rheum  and  cannot  go  hunting 
and  none  to  venture  nigh  Boston  for  us !  'Tis  a 
sorry  thing  being  a  Quaker's  wife  in  these  days 
when  they  would  as  soon  kill  thee  as  say  it.  " 

"We  be  in  worse  case  yet,"  said  Roger,  "and 
Mistress  Armitage  fled  for  her  life.  Lady  Phips 
got  her  forth  of  the  prison  and  commissioned  me 
to  bring  her  to  thee.  The  Governor  is  not  yet 
back  from  Pemaquid. " 

"Monstrous — a  maid  like  that!"  The  listener 
had  drawn  off  the  furred  boots,  cut  to  rags  upon 
the  roots  and  stones  of  the  way,  and  sprang  up 
suddenly.  Temple  had  put  out  her  stiff  hand  to 
soothe  the  wailing  infant  and  the  motion  had  sent 
the  blood  too  quickly  on  its  reanimated  way. 
She  leaned  helplessly  upon  the  goodwife's  breast 
and  slow  tears  of  weakness  wet  her  cheeks.  One 
hand  clung  like  a  child's  upon  the  woman's  sleeve, 
and  at  that  touch  Mother  Lindwell  gathered  the 
girl  close  and  crooned  over  her  in  a  tender  murmur, 
forgetting  the  brisk  sharpness  of  her  accustomed 
manner. 

"Here  Trott,  get  down  the  bed.  Make  haste. 
The  maid  is  faint  for  sleep.  Hast  thou  bread  or 
meat  ? "  She  put  the  question  to  Roger  anxiously. 

Roger  had  laid  out  the  flasks  and  the  remaining 
food  upon  the  wide  shelf  that  served  for  table,  and 
the  woman,  tucking  the  girl  tenderly  about,  set 
herself  to  toast  a  fragment  of  the  wheaten  bread. 


416  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

The  man  looked  wistful  and  the  little  one  cried, 
for  hunger. 

Roger  put  into  its  hands  a  broken  slice  and  it 
sat  up  and  ate,  forcing  bites  upon  the  father  who 
nibbled  gingerly,  and  glowed  with  delight  as  the 
child  sighed  in  a  kind  of  rapture  and  fell  asleep  in 
his  arms. 

The  Maid  was  drowsy  and  would  neither  eat  nor 
drink. 

"I  would  sleep,"  she  protested.  The  goodwife 
finally  ceased  to  strive  with  her,  drew  the  covers 
more  warmly  over  the  reclining  figure,  and  left 
her  lost  already  in  the  dim  labyrinth  of  dreams. 

The  windows  were  narrow,  mere  slits  in  the  logs, 
nailed  over  with  oiled  paper  and,  all  save  one, 
shuttered  against  the  cold.  The  light  came  chiefly 
from  the  fire  and  revealed  the  barren  interior  in 
bursts  and  flashes  of  its  glare.  The  table  shelf,  the 
bed  lowered  on  hinges  from  the  wall,  the  settle, 
and  rude  stools  upon  the  hearth,  were  well-nigh  all 
the  furniture,  and  made,  like  the  house,  here  in  the 
woods.  The  rafters  that  should  have  hung  with 
strings  of  dried  apples,  bunches  of  onions,  and  wild 
herbs  for  medicine  were  bare  save  for  the  central 
beam  that  bore  the  unhusked  corn ;  the  rough  cup- 
board nailed  beside  the  fire  held  a  couple  of  wooden 
bowls,  spoons  made  of  shells  clamped  in  split 
sticks,  and  an  iron  toasting  fork.  Upon  a  green- 
wood crane  over  the  fire  hung  a  pot  that  boiled 
noisily,  cooking  nothing,  but  filling  the  chimney- 
side  with  steam. 

Mistress  Lindwell  talked  eagerly  with  Roger, 
bustling  about  to  set  the  fragments  of  his  own  feast 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  417 

more  tidily  upon  the  board.  The  wheaten  bread 
she  kept  apart,  saving  it  for  the  Maid,  but  the  rest 
she  urged  on  him. 

"Eat  it,  and  get  strength  to  go  forth  and  hunt 
for  us !  Trott  there  will  be  a  new  man  for  e'en  a 
bite  of  venison, "she  said.  "Eat  and  sleep,  lad. 
Thee've  circles  so  deep  under  thy  eyes  they're  fair 
sunken  away. " 

"Nay,  Mother  Lindwell,  eat,  thyself,  and  make 
Trott  finish  the  little  there  be.  I've  had  food 
already  and  am  not  hungry.  I,  too,  but  want  to 
sleep. " 

He  rolled  himself  within  the  skins  she  threw  upon 
the  floor,  but  before  he  slept  he  raised  his  head  to 
speak  again. 

"Sir  William  and  Lady  Phips  hold  Mistress 
Armitage  dear  as  if  she  were  their  own !  I  know 
there's  naught  thou  and  Trott  here  would  not  do — 
even  to  the  last  crumb  within  the  wallet — were  she 
wholly  friendless,  but  'tis  no  harm  ye  should  know 
the  Governor  will  not  forget  this  kindness. " 

"Go  to  sleep,  boy.  Think'st  thou  we'd  do  for 
Governor  Phips  what  we'd  not  do  a  thousandfold 
for  thee  who  rescued  us,  and  saved  my  baby  when 
we  fled.  And  who  that  had  seen  the  Maid  would 
not  welcome  her  for  her  brave  self,  I'd  ask  to  know  ? 
Would  ye  were  man  and  wife !  It  was  ill  fortune 
that  sent  a  maid  forth  so  alone.  The  gossips 
will " 

Roger  sat  up  and  looked  at  her  pleadingly. 
"Thou 'It  not  let  her  be  troubled  by  fears  of  gos- 
sips? She  hath  had  enough  to  bear!" 

"  Go  thou  to  sleep.     Try  not  to  teach  thy  Mother 


4i8  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

Lindwell  what  to  say  to  maids.  Tell  me  who  ac- 
cused the  girl.  " 

"The  Munches  first  of  all.  " 

"I  remember  them — aye,  old  Christopher  and 
the  galoot  that  wore  the  spangled  doublet — mean 
and  croping  all  of  'em — and  full  of  enviousness  and 
bile.  There  was  a  maid  amongst  them  also  ?"  But 
Roger  did  not  answer  and  the  woman  softened  her 
tones,  taking  her  little  one  and  crouching  on  the 
settle  by  the  flames. 

"  Art  in  great  pain,  Trott  ?  I  knew  it,  and  I  sent 
thee  after  snow !  I  will  rub  thy  shoulder  with  the 
bear's  grease  and  do  thou  heat  it  in.  Man — man, 
what  can  we  do  about  the  sleeping !  'Twill  be  the 
evergreens  on  the  floor  for  us,  the  loft  for  Roger, 
and  the  Maid's  cloaks  will  help  to  keep  her  warm. " 

"She  is  wondrous  lovely,"  said  Trott  quietly. 
"I'm  glad  the  lad  could  save  her. " 

The  Maid  scarce  woke  for  four  and  twenty  hours. 
When  she  rose  at  last  and  sat  upon  the  edge  of  the 
bed,  pushing  back  the  soft  hair  tumbled  on  her 
forehead,  the  baby  laughed  within  a  pile  of  bear- 
skins on  the  hearth,  and  savoury  odours  floated  from 
the  bubbling  pot,  swung  low  upon  the  yielding 
crane. 

"Where  is  Captain  Verring?  Hath  he  gone?" 
she  asked. 

"  He  is  without,  getting  for  me  the  wood  to  keep 
us  warm.  The  snow  hath  covered  it  and  the  good- 
man  grows  worse  each  time  he  makes  the  attempt,  " 
answered  her  hostess  cheerfully.  "  'Twas  a 
Heaven-sent  sleep  thou's  had,  my  child.  " 

"But  you — where  did  you  sleep?     I  have  taken 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  419 

your  bed  ! "  The  girl  came  forward,  seeming  taller 
and  more  beautiful  still  in  the  low  room.  She  put 
both  hands  upon  the  goodwife's  arm  and  held  her 
fast.  "You  and  your  husband  have  done  all  this 
for  one  who  is  a  stranger.  And  you  yourselves 
are  ill  and  anxious !  Now  I  will  be  of  use.  Cap- 
tain Verring  shall  see  'tis  not  a  man  only  may  be 
useful. " 

"  'Tis  blessed  good  to  have  thee  here,  "  the  woman 
answered  in  an  impetuous  burst.  "  Thou's  no  idea 
how  lonely  'tis  here  in  these  woods,  and  Trott  and 
I  were  ever  used  to  neighbours.  Thou'rt  useful 
Mistress,  just  to  stay  with  us  !" 

The  day  was  blithe  and  the  strangeness  of  this 
refuge  made  but  the  more  delight.  The  baby 
fastened  upon  Temple  and  would  not  let  her  go, 
and  Trott 's  aching  arms  were  thereby  greatly 
eased. 

"  'Tis  a  fine  world  when  thou  hast  a  warm  chim- 
ney corner  and  thy  mother  and  father  near,  little 
Peace,  is't  not ! "  the  Maid  said  gaily,  tossing  the 
child  to  the  smoky  beams.  Then  she  fell  sober 
and  held  the  tiny  one  upon  her  knee,  watching  the 
fire  in  a  sad  quietness,  coming  forth  from  her  rev- 
erie in  still  gayer  mood. 

But  the  blame  of  a  hostile  world  found  her  even 
here  and  the  blitheness  wore  away  or  grew  more 
forced.  Even  Mistress  Lindwell  was  openly  trou- 
bled at  the  flight  together.  Who  knew  what  rumour 
might  not  have  said  !  And  the  Maid  became  first 
sorrowful,  then  indignant.  Did  Roger  repent  his 
words  before  the  judges?  She  grew  scarlet  with 
remembrance.  Should  she  have  protested,  refused 


420  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

to  come  with  him?  Had  he  found  her  but 
too  ready  to  trust — and  follow?  It  was  plainly 
his  duty  to  show  her  that  he  was  still  of  the  same 
mind. 

And  Roger,  remembering  that  he  had  said  pub- 
licly to  her  enemies  that  which  was  hers  alone  to 
hear,  doubted  if  the  words  had  not  revolted  her. 
Her  former  distance  had  not  been  explained  and 
he  wondered  if  she  longed,  here  in  the  midst  of  this 
rough  friendliness  of  the  Lindwells,  for  the  polished 
homage  of  Sir  Humphrey.  As  she  grew  constrained 
he  grew  more  silent  and  held  more  aloof.  Surely 
it  was  hers  to  show  whether  or  no  his  love  had 
angered  her ! 

The  snows  fell  heavily  and  the  scanty  supply  of 
corn  was  near  an  end.  The  deer  were  few  and  the 
hunting  alone  could  not  provide  them  with  what 
would  keep  the  soul  within  the  body.  He  thought 
the  Maid  looked  thinner  and  beneath  her  mirth 
there  seemed  to  him  to  lurk  a  baffling  sadness. 

The  privations  she  endured  cost  him  daily  more 
suffering.  She  had  conquered  the  good  wife  by 
invincible  persistence — and  by  the  picture  of  Trott 
grown  worse  or  dying — and  now  she  slept  upon 
the  evergreens.  The  bundle  of  Lady  Phips  had 
held  a  truly  marvellous  array,  yet  he  knew  how 
much  of  what  had  been  to  her  but  daily  decencies 
she  must  forego. 

Temple  woke  one  morning  to  hear  the  Quaker's 
wife  protesting  staunchly. 

"  Not  yet,  Roger.  We  can  do  with  what  we  have 
till  thou  hast  shot  more  rabbits  or  the  deer  return. 
They're  sure  to  kill  thee  if  thou  go  now. " 


421 


The  girl  arranged  her  hair,  bathed  her  face  in  the 
warm  snow  water,  and  throwing  her  cloak  about 
her,  stepped  out  into  the  light. 

Roger's  face  brightened  as  he  saw  her. 

"What  is  it,  Captain  Verring  ?  What  would  you 
do  ? "  she  asked  in  visible  alarm. 

"  Make  a  little  journey.  I  shall  shortly  return, " 
he  answered,  his  eyes  resting  on  her  with  a  grave 
wistfulness,  of  which  she  blindly  marked  but  the 
gravity. 

"You  go  to  Boston?" 

"  Oh  beg  him  not  to  go — he  will  listen  to  thee, " 
implored  the  woman.  "Think  on  those  who  love 
him  if  he's  hanged.  'Twill  kill  Madam  Verring. 
Bid  him  not  to  go.  " 

The  Maid  hesitated. 

"I  fear  Captain  Verring  would  heed  me  little, 
but  I  would  he  might  remain.  I  do  ask  him  for  us 
all.  " 

Roger  misinterpreted  the  words  and  look  as  she 
had  misread  his.  To  go  was  best,  but  he  had  hoped 
for  some  vague  sign  to  ease  his  jealousy  or  show 
him  she  forgave  what  had  offended  her.  But 
goodwife  Lindwell  stayed  by  them  in  her  fear  for 
Roger,  and  did  not  guess  the  pain  beneath  the  calm- 
ness of  their  brief  farewell. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

AN    ENCOUNTER    AND    AN    ACCIDENT 

WHILE  the  Maid  ate  her  parched  corn 
and  slept  upon  the  evergreens,  smiling 
through  all  as  bravely  as  in  the  first 
day  of  their  exile,  and  hiding  the  hurt  that  made 
hardship  a  relief  from  thought,  Boston  discussed 
her  and  her  absence,  making  large  capital  of  scandal 
or  romance. 

Nicolas  Verring  and  Alison  grew  older  in  the 
hearing  and  scourged  their  souls  in  the  strong  mis- 
ery of  their  credence  of  the  tales. 

In  the  streets  and  behind  the  doors  shut  fast  for 
fear  and  secrecy,  excitement  ebbed  and  flowed. 
The  return  of  the  Governor  had  infused  a  more 
wholesome  quality  into  the  life  of  the  town,  but  the 
madness  had  not  run  its  course.  Fear  and  fanatic 
rage  still  overpowered  the  growing  force  of  protests 
that  had  risen  upon  the  rabid  wantonness  of  accusa- 
tion. No  man's  life  was  safe  and  dread  of  the  ac- 
cuser counteracted  terror  of  the  supernatural. 
Captain  Alden  had  broken  jail  and  taken  himself  off, 
with  a  nimbleness  unexpected  of  his  seventy  years, 
at  the  very  moment  when  a  praying  band  were  met 
within  his  own  house  to  cast  out  the  evil  spirit  that 
enchained  him.  None  knew  whither  he  had  gone 
but  it  was  plain  so  long  as  he  remained  away  he  and 
his  goods  were  safe.  To  come  back  would  be  death. 

In  the  days  of  his  return  to  the  horror-smitten 
town,  in  the  long  hours  of  enforced  hiding  and 
422 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  423 

delay,  Roger  endured  much  that  was  more  wearing 
than  the  privations  of  the  wood,  and  his  heart 
burned  with  the  live  coals  of  his  fears  about  the 
Maid.  The  coldness  of  their  parting  lay  hard 
upon  him  and  he  grew  sick  with  the  certainty  that 
if  Sir  Humphrey  were  to  follow  her  she  would  re- 
joice to  see  him. 

In  his  spy-hindered  labours  Nopomuk  aided 
him,  and  through  Lady  Phips  he  gathered  by 
night  the  stores  he  was  to  carry.  She,  too, 
had  need  be  careful,  for  many  eyes  watched  every 
purchase,  informers  were  set  upon  the  household, 
and  the  servants  plied  with  threats  and  questions 
by  those  who  sought  the  Maid. 

At  last  a  morning  came  when  he  would  wait  no 
longer.  The  hour  for  Nopomuk's  nightly  visit 
was  long  since  past  and,  therefore,  dark  though  it 
was,  some  one  must  have  followed.  The  sun  was 
rising. 

Roger  crept  from  the  heavy  robes  concealed 
among  the  rocks  and  examined  in  all  directions 
before  he  began  his  toil.  Then  he  unearthed  his 
stores,  packed  them  skilfully  and  strapped  them 
with  leather  thongs.  Before  he  lifted  them  to  place 
the  burden  upon  his  shoulders  he  raised  his  eyes 
once  more  to  search  the  forest. 

"A  fine  morning,  Captain.  "  Sir  Humphrey  had 
seated  himself  upon  a  rock  and  looked  about  with 
cheerful  interest.  "Thou'st  chosen  a  charming 
woodland  for  thy  stroll.  " 

Roger  set  the  pack  upon  the  ground  and  stood  up 
with  a  movement  so  sudden  Sir  Humphrey  drew 
his  hand  from  beneath  his  cloak. 


424  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"  'Tis  loaded  and  my  aim  hath  been  commended," 
he  said  indifferently.  The  heavy  pistol  pointed 
without  wavering.  Roger  faced  it  with  no*  change 
in  his  expression,  but  his  thoughts  moved  quickly 
from  point  to  point  of  possible  escape. 

"Pray  let  me  not  interrupt, "  went  on  the  voice 
of  the  cavalier.  "  I'm  hi  the  mood  myself  for  strol' 
ling.  We'll  go  together.  " 

Roger  returned  to  his  task,  lifting  his  heavy 
pack  and  fastening  it  with  quiet  deliberation  as  if 
he  either  had  not  heard  the  other's  words,  or  would 
make  no  contradiction  of  their  import. 

"Lead,  and  I'll  follow  close  upon  thy  steps," 
the  voice  commanded.  "  'Tis  said  I  have  a  some- 
what hasty  temper.  An'  we  come  not  within  a 
reasonable  time  to  the  destination  thou'd  selected 
there'll  be  one  witch  defender  less  in  pious  Boston. 
'Tis  time  we  started.  For  what  sweet  inspiration 
dost  thou  linger  ? " 

Roger  looked  at  the  cavalier,  then  at  the  pistol 
as  if  irresolute. 

"If  'tis  the  Indian  thou  expectest,  he  vanished 
in  witch  smoke  when  he  saw  me  upon  his  track 
some  half-mile  distant.  But  from  there  the  way 
was  easy.  A  Providential  trail  of  footsteps  guided 
me  to  thy  present  cover.  For  which  mercy  I  was 
not  ungrateful. "  Sir  Humphrey  had  risen  from 
the  rock. 

Roger  frowned,  seeming  to  find  the  yielding  in- 
evitable, and  moved  forward  at  a  sharp  angle  from 
the  direction  of  the  Quaker's  house. 

"Make  not  detours  too  long  for  patience,  Captain. 
I  am  inclined  for  strolling,  but  would  not  waste  my 


THE  COAST  OP  FREEDOM  425 

breath.  So  look  to  it  an'  thou  wouldst  not  leave 
this  world — and  thy  Enslaver  to  be  consoled,  it 
may  be,  by  thy  enemies ! — And  die  thou  shalt,  if 
thou  deceive  me. "  The  last  words  dropped  the 
lightness  of  the  bantering  tone. 

Still  Roger  made  no  reply,  but  kept  a  good  pace 
that  lengthened  gradually  as  he  advanced.  Upon  a 
slight  rise  in  the  rough  ground  the  trail  he  followed 
turned  at  right  angles,  skirting  a  low  bluff  that  gave 
a  sheer  plunge  down  its  hidden  bank.  Of  this  the 
other  had  no  knowledge. 

Roger's  increasing  stride  had  left  him  some  six 
paces  in  the  rear.  Discovering  the  widening  dis- 
tance between  them  and  that  a  clump  of  evergreens 
would  shortly  intervene,  the  cavalier  quickened  his 
step  and,  as  Roger  vanished  around  the  angle  of  the 
rock,  he  was  instantly  upon  him.  The  pistol, 
knocked  into  the  air,  fell  beneath  the  ledge  and  the 
two  men  grappled  in  the  entrance  of  the  path. 
The  older  man  was  not  unskilled,  his  resistance 
was  desperate,  powerful.  Pebbles  rolled  from 
beneath  their  feet  and  rattled  into  the  hollow 
where  the  jutting  boulders  had  kept  the  ground 
clear  of  the  snows.  Hearing  the  tumbling  stones 
Sir  Humphrey  leaped  quickly  back  from  what 
seemed  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  setting  his  feet  upon 
what  was  its  actual  verge.  A  twig  slipped  under 
him  and  he  fell  heavily,  crashing  upon  the  broken 
edges  of  the  rocks  below. 

Roger  slid  and  clambered  rapidly  down  the 
farther  end  of  the  short  descent.  Here  the  trees 
gave  a  hold  and  the  brief  precipice  ended  in  a  slope. 

"  Hast  scored  again,  my  doughty  Puritan.     Thy 


426  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

pasty-faced  accusers  have  the  right  of  it. "  Sir 
Humphrey  looked  up,  helpless,  his  lips  bitten  hard 
from  pain.  '  'Twas  some  damned  wizardry  that 
sunk  this  pitfall. " 

Roger  unstrapped  his  pack  in  haste,  bestowing 
it  out  of  sight  beneath  a  hemlock. 

"I  believe  thou  art  relieved,  thou  fool,  to  find 
me  living.  What  a  pother  is  a  Puritan's  righteous- 
ness. "  The  injured  man  writhed  a  little  over, 
moving  his  arm  to  reach  his  side,  but  Roger  was  be- 
fore him. 

"  I  will  bear  your  rapier;  you  but  put  yourself  to 
greater  suffering  by  motion.  "  He  quietly  removed 
the  short  sword,  picked  up  the  pistol  and  laid  both 
upon  his  pack.  "I  would  not  cause  you  needless 
pain,  "  he  went  on,  returning  to  the  wounded  man, 
"but  know  I  must  if  you  can  walk.  'Tis  needful 
precaution  in  my  absence. "  He  examined  his 
fallen  enemy  as  tenderly  as  might  be,  assuring 
himself  of  broken  bones  and  showing,  spite  of  in- 
ward rage,  a  certain  sympathy  for  the  evident  suf- 
fering of  his  foe. 

At  the  word  absence  Sir  Humphrey  had  looked  up 
searchingly. 

"The  highway  is  close  at  hand.  I  will  return, " 
Roger  reassured  him  coldly. 

Sir  Humphrey  left  to  himself  swore  with  violence, 
but  his  face  welcomed  Roger's  return  with  the 
sneering  smile  with  which  he  had  seen  him  go. 

"Art  welcome,  sweet  Samaritan,  "  he  cried.  "I've 
nigh  drained  my  flask  in  waiting  and  the  rocks 
be  hard  as  well  as  chill.  Who  is  thy  genial  friend  ? " 

The  solemn-visaged  farmer  who  followed  Roger 


THE  COAST  OP  FREEDOM  427 

looked  with  dour  compassion  upon  the  fallen  man 
and  set  about  preparing  a  litter  of  thick  boughs. 
The  cavalier  made  no  complaint  in  the  journey  but 
the  sweat  of  doleful  agonies  stood  upon  his  forehead 
as  he  was  laid  at  last  upon  the  rude  couch  in  the 
farmer's  cabin. 

"I  will  resume  our  stroll  some  other  day,"  he 
gasped  meaningly,  as  Roger  left  him. 

Roger  paused  at  the  threshold. 

' '  Pray  risk  not  your  recovery  by  too  much 
haste,  "  he  said  unmoved. 

"Here  thou,  quick!"  The  cavalier  summoned 
the  dour- faced  host  with  a  shout.  "Pursue  the 
man  and  hold  him.  He  is  a  witch  escaped  from 
Boston.  The  town  is  searching  for  him.  Take  thy 
gun.  He  will  be  armed.  " 

The  man  seized  his  musket  and  vanished  on  the 
word,  running  for  the  woods,  but  Roger  had  run 
faster.  At  the  bluff  all  trace  was  lost  save  the 
footprints  approaching  from  above.  A  rabbit 
whisked  across  the  snow.  The  man  watched  it 
with  startled  eyes  and  fired  his  musket  at  the  spot 
where  it  had  disappeared.  Then  he  turned  and 
made  his  way  back  to  his  groaning  guest. 

"  He  turned  himself  into  a  rabbit  and  the  ball 
went  through  him  harmless, "  he  reported.  '  'Tis 
strange  a  witch  animal  hath  no  tail ! "  He  wagged 
his  head. 

"But  a  rabbit  is  ever  without  a  tail,  thou  oaf," 
retorted  Sir  Humphrey  angrily. 

Roger  waited  till  the  man  was  well  away,  and 
descended  cautiously  from  his  hiding  place.  Keep- 
ing a  sharp  eye  upon  the  approaches  to  the  hollow, 


THE  COAST  OP  FREEDOM 


he  bound  his  bundle  again  upon  his  shoulders  and 
set  forth,  walking  backward  in  the  tracks  made  by 
Sir  Humphrey  and  himself.  At  a  point  where  they 
had  crossed  a  frozen  brook  blown  almost  clear  of 
snow  he  set  his  face  once  more  toward  the  Quaker's 
dwelling,  moving  forward  rapidly  wherever  he  had 
not  first  to  sweep  clear  the  trackless  ice. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

KIDNAPPED 

now,  we  must  let  thee  go!"  Mistress 
Lindwell  sighed.  She  was  making  earnest 
effort  to  sew  by  the  troubled  light  that 
penetrated  the  narrow  rectangles  of  oiled  paper, 
and  her  eyes  winked  rapidly  as  if  protesting 
at  their  task.  The  women  were  alone.  The 
sound  of  the  Quaker's  saw  came  to  them 
from  without  the  house.  "How  long  is't  since 
thee  came  to  us?  'Twould  seem  no  longer  than 
yesterday  to  me, "  went  on  the  good  wife,  drawing 
her  needle  swiftly. 

"  'Tis  many  weeks — this  will  be  Captain  Ver- 
ring's  fifth  journey  to  the  town,  "  broke  in  the  girl. 
"  How  long  I've  tried  your  goodness  !" 

"The  trial's  yet  to  come,  when  we  must  let  thee 
go  !  And  Roger — O  'twill  be  grievous  lonely  with- 
out ye !  Even  a  day  like  this  when  he  be  away 
is  longer.  Dost  remember  how  it  dragged — the 
time — when  he  made  that  first  trip  to  find  us  food  ? " 

"You  will  see  him  often.  Happy  days  be  com- 
ing for  thee  and  goodman  Trott.  There'll  soon 
be  end  of  hardship  and  loneliness  for  both. "  The 
Maid  spoke  cheerfully. 

"Well,  we've  need  of  them,  for  now  young  Joliff 
be  gone,  there's  none  we  can  trust  to  fetch  and 
carry  from  the  town,  and  once  Nicolas  Verring  gets 
Roger  again  in  the  counting-house  there'll  be 

429 


430  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

precious  few  hours  to  him  for  running  of  our  er- 
rands!" Mistress  Lindwell  appeared  somewhat 
heartened,  spite  of  the  lamentation  of  her  words. 

"  Do  you,  in  truth,  hold  that  this  madness  of  the 
people  about  the  witchcraft  will  pass?  I  cannot 
trust  it.  You  did  not  see  them!"  The  Maid 
stopped,  troubled.  "If  my  Uncle  Amory  would 
but  hasten  his  coming  he  might  get  me  forth  to 
England.  I  am  a  danger  here  to  all  who  harbour 
me. "  The  girl  sighed  in  her  turn,  moving  to  and 
fro  a  forked  stick  for  little  Peace  to  peep  through 
and  play  owl-in-the- woods. 

"There  now,  I've  caught  thee  !"  The  goodwife 
laughed.  "All  thy  fine  words  of  cheer  be  for  me 
and  the  sadness  is  heavier  on  thee  than  on  us.  I 
knew  it,  well.  "  She  looked  up  across  her  stitching. 

Temple  "hooted"  once  more  through  the  twigs 
and  the  child  answered  with  a  startling  "  wh-oo-oo  " 
much  trilled  with  mirth. 

The  Maid  smiled.  "  I  must  have  my  little  mel- 
ancholies and  make  my  little  wail,  dear  Mother 
Lindwell,  else  should  I  forget  how  to  be  in  the 
fashion.  To  be  sometimes  sighing  bespeaks  a 
weighty  mind. " 

"  Pooh — a  dry  leaf  for  the  sighing  ! — and  dear  at 
that !  'A  weighty  mind'  !  A  laggard  stomach 
more  like  !"  The  woman's  eyes  twinkled  over  her 
task.  "  'Tis  thy  good  honest  pluck  makes  me  most 
admire,  I  tell  thee.  Thou  art  so  young  and  hast 
had  such  sadnesses  and  yet,  give  thee  but  one  pale 
ray,  and  thou  mak'st  a  sunrise  ! " 

Temple  smiled  with  humorous  amusement. 

"Where  dost    keep  such  rose  mirrors  to  reflect 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  431 

thy  friends  withal ! "  she  began  mirthfully,  growing 
much  in  earnest  as  she  talked.  "  I  wonder  if  it  hath 
come  to  thee  that  'twould  be  dull  metal  did  not  re- 
flect the  good  cheer  of  thy  own  quick  spirit ! " 

"I'll  not  say  nay.  I  love  flattery — an'  it  be  warm 
with  some  goodwill.  "  Mistress  Lindwell  bit  off  her 
thread.  "What  luxury  not  to  use  ravellings,  and 
to  have  more  than  one  needle,  "  she  went  on  again. 
"Roger  is  terrible  thoughtful.  Luxury!  And 
what  dost  suppose  it  hath  been  to  me  to  chat  so 
over  nothings  with  a  woman !  'Tis  seldom  men 
know  how  to  settle  to  a  bit  of  talk.  They  must  be 
ever  bobbing  up  to  use  their  arms  and  legs,  and  get 
no  flavour  from  the  trifles  that  rest  the  tongue !" 

Temple  laughed  again,  for  Trott,  coming  from 
without,  stood  in  the  doorway  and  observed  his 
wife  with  such  reposeful  zest  that  she  looked  up 
and  straightway  set  him  to  another  task. 

He  nodded  his  head  at  the  Maid.  "A  woman, 
Temple  Armitage,  that  hath  a  busy  mind  and 
chooseth  the  right  husband  may  set  him  'bobbing 
up'  for  two,  "  he  said  in  his  slow,  comfortable  speech. 
"  Not  so,  Peace;  come  from  the  door,  or  help  me  to 
shut  it.  When  I  pull,  then  push  thee  hard,  within," 
and  he  departed,  still  nodding  as  if  inwardly  re- 
peating his  own  jest. 

As  night  came  on  and  Peace  was  taken  from  her 
arms,  so  fast  asleep  undressing  could  not  stir  the 
fallen  lids,  the  Maid  left  the  house  to  stand  in  the 
tree-circled  clearing  and  watch  the  stars  appear. 
The  days  were  well  companioned,  but  the  nights, 
that  began  so  early,  were  lengthened  out  of  all  pro- 
portion to  their  hours.  The  close  contentment  of 


432  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

the  two  who  worked  together  in  the  house,  pre- 
paring for  the  supper  half  forgotten  in  the  excite- 
ment of  the  sewing,  made  her  in  this  time  of  Roger's 
absence  more  than  ever  lonely. 

Every  day  she  had  grown  more  scornful  of  her- 
self that  she  could  not  even  pluck  a  winter  fern 
without  longing  for  him  to  share  delight  in  its  brave 
greenness.  It  had  been  given  to  her  to  love  greatly, 
but  the  stronger  the  force  of  her  love  the  more  it 
built  high  walls  for  shield,  dwelling  where  it  could 
neither  admit  another  nor  show  itself  without 
strong  and  startling  reason. 

Not  even  Roger  guessed  how  wholly  this  was  true 
'of  her  and  that  she  could  feel  as  he  and  yet  leave 
his  vords,  so  clearly  spoken,  as  if  they  had  not  been. 
Did  she  care,  surely  some  gate  she  would  leave 
open  for  approach,  some  reassurance  of  those 
words  her  love  would  crave.  But  all  gates  she 
barred,  and  he  could  not  urge  on  her  more  of  a 
presence  already  too  much  forced  upon  her  by 
events. 

In  the  despair  of  these  days  that  might  have  held 
a  fuller  comradeship  than  the  town  could  give 
them,  he  made  frequent  excuse  for  journeys,  that 
he  might  irk  her  less,  hoping  for  some  betrayal  of 
gladness  at  his  return. 

To  her  these  absences  were  proof  of  the  dreari- 
ness he  found  in  their  unwilled  seclusion,  and  her 
welcome  grew  more  staid,  more  bravely  indifferent 
with  each.  As  the  time  came  for  Sir  Humphrey 
to  be  well  again,  the  fear  of  her  ill-protected  isola- 
tion drove  Roger  to  seek  more  earnestly  means  for 
her  safe  return.  Under  Sir  William's  roof  she 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  433 

would  at  least  be  safe  from  Sir  Humphrey  Wild- 
glass,  and  malice  itself  must  at  last  be  silenced 
among  the  accusers.  Already  the  jails  were  empty- 
ing and  the  exiled  everywhere  looking  hopefully 
toward  home. 

The  Maid  herself  had  only 'dread  for  a  return  that 
meant  but  separation  more  complete,  and  the  sight 
of  all  that  could  bring  to  her  the  evil  days  before 
the  flight.  It  was  for  that  she  sighed,  playing  at 
owl-games  with  little  Peace.  She  felt  assurance 
that  Roger  would  come  from  this  latest  absence 
saying  that  she  might  go  back,  and  a  homeless  deso- 
lation stared  at  her.  Even  the  thought  of  Richard 
Amory,  too  long  away  to  be  more  than  a  vague  and 
chilly  refuge  for  a  lonely  girl,  gave  her  small  com- 
fort. Doubtless  to  him  she  would  be  but  an  incu- 
bus !  Better  the  morbid  bitterness  and  the  woods 
than  to  be  herself  again,  and  go  radiant  about  the 
stupid  business  of  more  active  days  in  town. 

This  thought  was  with  her  as  she  entered  the 
house  again,  and  it  was  this  that  held  her  yet  when 
Trott  drowsed  on  the  settle,  and  the  goodwife, 
wearied,  dropped  beside  the  child. 

It  was  from  the  smart  of  it  that  footsteps  woke 
her.  The  fire  was  dim,  but  the  whole  room  bright- 
ened with  the  belief  that  it  was  Roger. 

She  went  swiftly  to  the  door  and  flung  it  wide. 
For  the  first  time  a  welcome  betrayed  itself  in  her 
exclamation.  But  the  figure  that  brushed  by  her 
was  not  Roger.  She  spoke  again  quickly,  rousing 
the  Quaker  from  his  doze.  Mistress  Lindwell  had 
started  up  from  her  couch,  calling  out  instantly, 
as  if  she  had  not  slept. 


434  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"Who  is  it?"  Temple  asked,  challenging  the 
intruder. 

The  fire  blazed  higher.  The  man  had  unclasped 
his  cloak,  letting  it  fall  upon  the  settle,  and  now  he 
tossed  his  hat  upon  it,  sinking  beside  them  as  if 
exhausted. 

"Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass!"  the  girl  cried,  as 
the  light  fell  upon  him.  "What  do  you  here?" 

If  she  felt  fear  it  was  disarmed  by  his  apparent 
weakness. 

"  I  was  strolling, "  he  answered  involuntarily. 
"Truly,  I  crave  pardon.  I  have  been  ill  and  my — 
stroll — hath  much  fatigued  me.  " 

It  was  more  than  the  strolling  that  fatigued  Sir 
Humphrey.  He  had  quarrelled  vigorously  with 
the  Lady,  who  waited  upon  the  rocks  above  the 
house,  savagely  in  haste  for  action. 

"You've  deceived  me  again,  "  he  had  complained 
with  uncurbed  fury.  "  I  get  the  men,  stout  fellows 
for  the  work  and  ready  to  keep  a  bargain,  and  am 
prepared.  Keep  you  out  of  it.  Wait  and  see  ye're 
not  fooled  an'  ye  will,  but  leave  the  work  to  us  ! " 

"I'm  like  to  have  dragged  myself  this  dismal 
way  at  night  to  leave  command  to  thee,  thou 
fool.  For  what  am  I  here,  think'st  thou !  'Tis 
I  command.  Obey  strictly  if  'tis  the  reward 

disquiets  thee 'Twill  be  thine  an'  thou  obey'st. 

Wait  here  with  thy  fellows. "  Sir  Humphrey 
would  have  left  them  but  the  other  had  detained 
him  roughly. 

"Stay  thou  here  thyself.  Let  me  kill  her. 
There's  no  safety  of  reward  till  she  be  dead.  I'll 
not  trust  ye " 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  435 

"Wait  here,  I  say,"  Sir  Humphrey  interrupted, 
turning  fearless  and  masterful  upon  the  danger. 
"Or  go  yonder.  There's  but  one  entrance.  Canst 
see  from  there  if  we  escape.  She  shall  not  be 
harmed  villain.  Dost  hear  me !  She's  to  go  in 
safety  with  us  if  the  reward's  to  follow.  Mayhap 
she'll  come  of  her  own  will.  I  may  persuade 
her " 

"  Ye're  to  kill  her,  my  men,  'tis  the  only  way  to 

make  sure  of  the  money "  broke  in  the  Lady 

again. 

The  four  who  waited  near  at  hand  had  crowded 
closer. 

"  'Tis  a  sure  way  to  lose  it.  An  ye'd  have  the 
gold  ye  must  obey. "  Sir  Humphrey  drove  them 

back.  "Wait  ye And  heed  if  I  call,"  he 

added  to  the  Lady,  then  set  his  back  to  them 
and  began  groping  down  the  rocks  toward  the 
house. 

"Know'st  thou  to-morrow's  morrow  will  be  thy 
birthday,  Frances?"  he  asked  now  suddenly. 

The  Maid  had  set  her  hands  together,  clasping 
them  sharply  in  the  shadows  where  she  stood. 

"  Fear  not  to  speak.  Thou  know'st  who  thou  art 
and  I  know.  These  good  people  will  not  harm 
thee.  Surely  thou  need'st  not  fear  thy  cousin. " 
Sir  Humphrey  had  risen  as  he  talked.  His  bones 
had  knitted  well  and  the  soreness  of  unused  muscles 
was  the  only  remembrancer  of  tedious  weeks. 

The  girl  came  into  the  light  of  the  fire  and  looked 
at  him  earnestly. 

"Why  are  you  here?"  she  asked. 

"To  save  thee.     The  Boston  men  are  on  thy 


436  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

track.  Thy  hiding  place  is  discovered.  "  He  sank 
upon  the  settle  again,  playing  the  role  of  illness 
cleverly.  "  We  must  make  haste.  These  two  will 
not  betray  us? " 

He  glanced  at  Trott,  who  stood  defiant  and  un- 
quakerlike  beside  them. 

"  Not  half  so  soon  as  I  would  betray  myself,  "  the 
girl  answered  promptly.  Sir  Humphrey  had  seen 
that  his  blow  struck  home.  The  trial,  the  prison, 
were  fresh  in  her  mind.  Hope  stirred  itself  in  him. 

"Come,"  he  said  again. 

"With  you?"  She  looked  at  him  without  stir- 
ring. 

"None  could  better  care  for  thee.  But  the  time 
is  short. " 

"  Whither  would  you  take  me  ? "  The  girl  watched 
him,  and  saw  that  he  was  not  so  ill  as  he  appeared. 
There  was  small  weakness  in  the  movement  that 
brought  him  beside  her  as  she  seemed  to  yield. 

"The  Soldan  sails  by  dawn.  I  will  conceal  thee 
on  her.  To  stay  in  the  country  is  death. "  He 
saw  the  meaning  of  her  look  and  went  on  quickly. 
"An*  thou  dread'st  the  sea  I  have  safe  hiding  place 
not  far  from  here.  Goodwife,  get  her  cloak  and 
hood.  She  is  not  safe  an  instant,  nor  you  while 
she  is  here. " 

"How  know  we  the  tale  be  true?"  demanded 
Temple.  "Where  be  these  men?  How  had  you 
knowledge  of  them?" 

"I  passed  them  on  the  way.  I  heard  in  Boston 
of  their  attempt  and  followed,  eluding  them.  "  Sir 
Humphrey  waited,  questioning  her  faith. 

"  I  do  not  believe  the  tale, "  Temple  answered, 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  437 

turning  from  him  to  the  others,  who  listened  credul- 
ous and  bewildered. 

The  cavalier  went  softly  to  the  door  and  peered 
forth,  as  though  regarding  the  sky. 

"If  thou  wilt  take  thy  stand  beside  me  and  let 
thy  gaze  wander  while  thy  head  is  still  lifted  as  in 
transport  at  the  moon,  thou'lt  see  them, "  he  said 
rapidly,  his  tones  carefully  suppressed.  "There  be 
figures  beneath  the  trees  yonder.  " 

She  joined  him  instantly.  The  Lady  and  his 
followers  had  stationed  themselves  where  they  held 
the  doorway  in  full  view  and  the  moonlight  re- 
vealed them.  She  drew  back  into  the  room. 

"  I  will  not  go  with  you,  "  she  said  steadily,  '  'but 
I  will  go  forth  to  them.  Then  will  they  not  molest 
my  friends. " 

She  reached  for  her  cloak  and  pulled  it  about  her 
shoulders,  but  as  her  fingers  went  to  the  fastenings 
Mistress  Lindwell  interfered.  The  husband  had 
placed  himself  directly  before  the  door  that  Sir 
Humphrey  had  closed. 

"Temple  Armitage,  thee'll  stay  here,"  he  said, 
his  calm  eyes  on  the  girl.  "Mount  into  the  loft 
quickly.  I  will  parley  with  them.  Thee  doth  not 
trust  this  man  who  saith  he  is  thy  cousin  ? " 

Temple  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of  her  de- 
fenders anxious  and  determined. 

"I  do  not  trust  him,"  she  said,  "but  I  would 
almost  go  with  him,  though  I  believe  he  seeks  my 
life,  rather  than  ye  be  exposed — and  the  child. 
We  must  think  on  Peace. " 

Sir  Humphrey  waited  before  the  fire,  listening 
as  at  a  comedy. 


438  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"  It  lies  with  thee  to  choose  twixt  peace  and  war, 
Frances.  "  His  smile  changed  as  his  eyes  rested  on 
her.  "An"  thou'd  been  a  man  the  name  of  Belling- 
ham  had  not  died  inglorious!"  he  interjected. 
'"Seek  thy  life'!  An'  thou  think'st  that,  thou 
knowest  little At  this  instant,  as  worse  for- 
tune may  yet  prove,  I  risk  my  own  for  thine  !  Nay, 
child,  doubt  not.  I  have  coined  many  falsehoods 
— and  better  mintage  than  most — but  love  lies  not. 
'Tis  not  by  will  of  mine  I  have  lost  power,  even 
power  to  lie  !  Look  at  me,  Frances "  He  ap- 
proached, entreating  eagerly — "Dost  thou  doubt 
I  love  thee  !"  The  fire  showed  him  briefly,  a  swift 
presentment  of  what  he  might  have  been. 

"I  cannot  learn  in  one  hour  to  undo  a  long  dis- 
trust." The  girl  spoke  gently.  "Even  if  I  be- 
lieved the  words,  I  could  not  go Pray  do  not 

let  us  waste  the  time  endangering  these. "  Her 
eyes  went  back  to  the  Quaker  and  his  wife. 

But  he  remained  still  pleading,  in  his  eagerness 
bending  passionately  near.  As  he  talked  the 
watchers  gazed  fascinated  at  the  two,  so  like  in  this 
changing  firelight  that  the  resemblance  seemed  un- 
canny. 

"  O  if  Roger  were  here  ! "  cried  out  Mistress  Lind- 
well,  then  bit  her  tongue,  remembering  the  men 
without. 

The  girl  was  cold,  troubled,  eager  for  escape  from 
protestation;  Sir  Humphrey  absorbed,  besieging 
her  distrust  by  all  there  was  of  him  of  fervour  and 
address.  He  pleaded  eloquently,  well.  His  roused 
look,  warm  with  conquering  emotion,  clung  to  her 
with  the  full  energy  of  his  intent. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  439 

Upon  Mistress  Lind well's  cry  for  Roger  he 
stopped,  and  the  ardour  of  his  gaze  became  a 
jealous  question. 

The  girl's  colour  rose  hotly  under  it,  an  answer 
stronger  than  her  will. 

He  stood  more  straightly,  facing  her.  "Wilt 
thou  come?"  he  asked  again. 

She  shook  her  head  in  quick  refusal.  In  her 
silence  was  the  pain  of  the  betrayal  he  had  evoked. 

He  left  her,  took  up  his  cloak  and  hat,  and 
opened  the  door.  Master  Lindwell  stood  back  to 
let  him  pass;  but  he  went  no  farther  than  the 
threshold.  At  his  signal,  the  men  under  the  trees 
moved  forward  into  the  clearing,  and  before  those 
within  had  understood,  the  five  were  in  the  room. 

"Touch  not  the  maid.  Bind  these,"  he  com- 
manded,— "but  hurt  them  not.  "  He  had  stepped 
once  more  to  the  girl's  side. 

"Wilt  thou  come  now,  or  must  I  take  thee  by 
violence?"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE    PURSUIT 

AT  the  moment  when  Temple  thought  she 
heard  his  footsteps  approaching  the  log 
house,  Roger  stood  waiting  in  the  hall  of 
the  Governor's  mansion  while  Debby  went  to  fetch 
still  one  more  package  for  his  carrying. 

"  'Twill  rejoice  Sir  William  mightily  to  have  ye 
both  again, "  Lady  Phips  was  saying.  "  'Twill  be 
proclaimed  ere  long — and  return  will  then  be 
safe  enough  for  all.  There  is  no  question.  Mis- 
tress Munch  came  back  from  hiding  yesterday, 
bringing  the  boy.  They  say  'tis  a  scandal  the  way 
he  is  indulged — as  like  now  to  be  ruined  for  too 
much  petting  as  formerly  for  unkindness.  Gossip 
hath  it  the  woman  is  much  chastened  in  spirit,  but 
quarrels  with  her  daughter  who  hath  been  some- 
what slighted  since  men  suspect  not  all  of  those  ac- 
cused were  guilty. " 

Roger  had  tried  more  than  once  to  interrupt. 

"I  must  go,  Lady  Phips.  Sir  Humphrey  hath 
been  seen  in  Boston  this  very  day.  I  fear " 

"Thou  shalt  go;  Debby  will  be  here  in  a  minute. 
Thou'rt  thinner  with  all  this  trouble,  Roger. " 
She  fixed  on  him  her  grey  eyes,  searching  as  the 
Governor's  were  shrewd,  and  went  on  quickly, 
"And  thou'rt  not  the  only  one's  grown  thin.  "  She 
smiled.  "  'Tis  said  Sir  John  Winchcombe's  figure 
hath  sadly  fallen  away,  and  that  he  curseth  Sir 
440 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  441 

Humphrey  Wildglass  for  a  knave.  Nay  more,  he 
threatens  him — though  I  misdoubt  me  if  Sir 
Humphrey  be  much  disquieted.  Madam  Chan- 
terell  hath  been  to  plead  with  me !  She  fears,  it 
seems,  the  wrath  of  Richard  Amory  who  rewarded 
them  liberally  for  safety  to  the  Maid.  Sir  John 
hath  been  extravagant  and  his  fortunes  be  low. 
I  like  not  the  woman,  but  had  she  been  alone " 

"  I  must  go Never  mind  the  packet.  She 

herself  will  be  here — to-morrow,  it  may  be " 

"  But  I  hear  Debby  now,  "  Lady  Phips  began. 

"A  man  without  must  see  you  instantly,  my 
Lady."  Debby 's  scared  face  appeared  within  the 
door. 

"  Lady  Phips — where  is  thy  mistress "  The 

voice  that  followed,  Roger  knew. 

"Roger" — it  began  joyfully  at  sight  of  him, 
then  with  the  suddenness  of  a  pistol  shot — "  Where 
is  the  Maid?" 

"At  the  Quaker's  house — What  is't  Maccartey  ? " 

The  answer  came  at  the  same  instant  with  the 
question.  "  Sir  Humphrey's  there — or  on  the  way. 
I  got  it  at  the  Ship  Tavern — a  sot  that  blabbed 

what Come.  Thou'lt  tell  the  Governor?". 

He  turned  to  Lady  Phips.  k 

"I'll  send  messengers "  she  began. 

Roger  was  already  without  the  house.  "Tell 
him  to  follow — the  New  Trail, "  his  voice  came 
back  to  her. 

"The  man  hath  a  dozen  with  him.  " — Maccartey's 
shout  as  the  two  disappeared. 

It  was  a  grim  race  for  the  sailor.  The  younger 
man  outstripped  him  much.  Roger  did  not  wait 


442  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

nor  look  behind.  When  he  stumbled  headlong 
across  the  sill  of  the  cabin  he  could  not  speak,  but 
cutting  swiftly  the  Quaker's  bonds,  he  listened. 

"Toward  the  N-ew  Trail  by  Miller's  pasture  and 
Spot  Pond.  An  hour  agone,  lacking  the  quarter.  " 
The  Quaker  pointed  as  he  spoke.  "There  be  six 
men. " 

Sir  Humphrey's  captured  pistol  lay,  still,  upon 
the  shelf  above  the  cupboard.  Roger  seized  it  and 
was  gone. 

"They  have  the  start  but  we  shall  find  them; 
they'll  go  more  slowly  with  the  Maid, "  he  said  as 
he  came  upon  Maccartey.  He  panted  less  fiercely. 

"More  quietly  for  a  space — and  hear  me,"  he 
went  on.  " 'Tis  like  they're  on  the  New  Trail.  Dost 
remember  the  Devil's  Nippers?" 

"  I  know  not  the  New  Trail,  "  answered  his  com- 
panion, striding  more  quickly. 

"  'Tis  a  deep  cut  where  the  rocks  be  split  apart 
and  the  path  goes  at  the  bottom.  At  the  far  end 
but  one  or  two  may  pass  at  once. — Faster  than  this 
an  thou  canst,  Maccartey. — We'll  pass  them,  an'  it 
can  be  done,  and  wait  them  there. " 

They  fell  into  the  step  of  their  march,  Maccartey 
still  following,  accomplishing  the  miracle  of  Roger's 
pace  under  the  rowelling  sharpness  of  his  dread. 

"Listen."  Roger  turned  back,  his  hand  raised 
warningly.  The  sounds  of  walking  that  broke 
upon  stones,  and  an  oath  whose  words  could 
not  be  heard.  They  skirted  the  path,  hiding 
among  the  evergreens,  and  counted  the  enemy. 

The  train  was  moving  in  Indian  file,  a  Boston 
man  seen  often  drunk  within  the  pillory  at  its 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  443 

head.  The  Lady  and  two  others  followed,  before 
they  saw  the  Maid.  Sir  Humphrey  walked  beside 
her  and  the  moon  revealed  her  clearly. 

He  who  came  last  was  most  dangerous  of  any, 
a  woodsman  and  famous  in  a  fight  for  ruse  and 
cunning.  When  his  powerful  figure  was  concealed 
beyond  the  trees  the  two  started  swiftly,  whisper- 
ing for  caution  even  after  they  had  passed  the 
Lady's  band. 

"They  mean  to  keep  the  trail.  " 

"Where  be  thy  Devil's  Nippers?" 

"Not  far  from  the  town.  'Tis  our  best  chance 
against  the  six. " 

"  Hast  thou  a  plan  for  th'  attack  ? " 

They  were  already  in  advance  and  Roger  eased 
their  speed  to  be  within  call  if  the  Maid  should  cry 
out  suddenly. 

"To  let  the  four  get  past "  he  began. 

"Then  each  of  us  take  one — I'll  make  for  Long- 
legs  in  the  rear.  See  thou  to  the  Maid  and  Sir 
Humphrey " 

"  Sir  Humphrey  should  be  easy  even  for  a  child — 
He  must  be  weak.  " 

"Trust  it  not,  lad.  He's  taut  as  a  steel  bow 
and  full  of  battles.  " 

They  took  their  stations  without  the  narrowed 
entrance  of  the  Nippers,  on  the  town  side  of  the 
shallow  ravine  and  hidden  from  those  coming 
down  the  trail. 

The  silence  lengthened  till  Roger  was  certain 
the  leader  had  been  wary  and  sought  out  another 
way.  But  even  upon  the  conviction  came  foot- 
steps sounding  on  the  rocks. 


444  THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM 

There  were  no  voices,  only  steps  that  beat  louder 
till  the  foremost  issued  from  the  cleft  boulders  and 
tramped  stolidly  past  the  hemlocks  where  the  two 
waited  for  Sir  Humphrey  and  the  Maid.  One  by 
one  four  emerged  and  moved  onward  in  the  path. 
The  climbing  had  left  them  somewhat  more  apart. 
The  Lady  had  changed  places  with  the  man  be- 
hind him. 

As  Roger  sprang  forward  he  saw  the  guardian  of 
the  rear  fall  without  a  sound  beneath  Maccartey's 
swift  attack,  and  in  the  instant  that  Sir  Humphrey 
was  felled  by  his  own  unexpected  blow,  he  cried 
to  the  Maid, 

"  Back — quickly.  " 

The  girl  obeyed,  retreating  at  Roger's  word 
through  the  narrow  opening  of  the  Nippers  into  the 
shelter  of  the  rocks. 

He  and  Maccartey  leaped  after  as  the  four  who 
had  passed  them  turned  hurriedly;  both  fired  and 
one  of  the  enemy  staggered. 

The  moon  was  hid  when  most  they  needed  it. 
The  fight's  worst  moment  was  waged  in  the  con- 
fusion of  darkness  that  a  moment  earlier  had  been 
light. 

The  Lady  had  crept  up  the  rocks  and  waited  for 
a  glimmer.  When  it  came  he  hurled  the  great  stone 
he  had  lifted,  straight  at  Maccartey's  head.  The 
sailor  fell,  unconscious,  as  Sir  Humphrey  got  upon 
his  feet. 

"  Run — back — then  to  the  left  of  the  trail — the 
Governor" — Roger  gasped  to  the  girl  as  they  set 
upon  him. 

He  had  held  two  at  bay  and  even  the  three  had 


THE  COAST   OF  FREEDOM          445 

felt  the  weight  of  his  resistance  in  a  struggle  that 
the  shifty  dark  prolonged,  but  the  five  plunged  on 
him  at  once,  the  wounded  man,  his  right  arm 
nerved  by  his  hurt,  striking  with  quick,  murderous 
strokes.  Two  of  the  blows  crashed  down  in  heavy 
succession  as  the  moon  appeared  again,  and  Roger 
dropped  like  a  thing  broken  and  done  with  upon 
the  rocky  path  within  the  ledge. 

Sir  Humphrey's  eyes  went  quickly  after  the 
Maid,  and  found  her  by  the  sheen  of  her  cloak  that 
caught  the  light  among  the  trees.  The  Lady  had 
lifted  his  rapier,  thoroughly  to  content  himself 
with  the  end  of  his  foes,  when  the  woods  resounded 
to  the  noise  of  a  rapid  and  furious  approach. 

He  turned  with  an  oath  to  where  the  cavalier  had 
stood.  Sir  Humphrey  was  not  there;  he  and  the 
girl  both  were  vanished. 

"The  cheat — the  cheat,"  the  pirate  swore, 
mumbling  the  word  as  he  pursued.  Greed  gave 
him  speed  and  he  searched  with  fiery  haste. 

The  cavalier  had  bound  the  Maid  so  she  could 
neither  call  nor  move  her  arms. 

"Swift  there, "  he  commanded  as  he  discovered 
his  pursuer.  "  Help  me,  ye  devil — and  lead  us 
the  shortest  way " 

The  noise  of  men  approaching  had  grown  louder 
in  their  ears ;  the  clatter  of  a  rush  upon  the  stones 
followed  them  as  they  fled. 

The  victors  had  disappeared,  all  save  the  man 
that  had  been  first  to  fall.  Maccartey,  raising 
himself  upon  an  elbow,  peered  at  him  wondering. 

The  voice  he  knew  best  brought  into  his  dazed 
staring  a  roused  look  of  remembrance.  He  got 


446          THE   COAST  OF    FREEDOM 

upon  his  feet  and  saw  those  who  scoured  among 
the  evergreens  for  the  triumphant  foe,  and  won- 
dered again  at  the  silence  of  those  who  drew  near 
with  the  Governor  to  another  figure  outstretched 
upon  the  ground. 

Sir  William  had  knelt  and  was  working  swiftly 
to  restore  the  man. 

"  My  God  in  Heaven — 'tis  Roger.  "  Maccartey's 
cry  rang  terrible  upon  the  silence  and  reached  even 
the  Maid. 

The  Governor  stooped  lower  over  the  lifeless 
frame,  his  hand  upon  the  heart,  his  cheek  bent  to 
detect  a  sign  of  breathing. 

"Here  lad,  come,  "  he  said,  "Comeback 

The  Maid's  in  danger " 

But  even  the  name  did  not  move  the  fixedness  of 
Roger's  look.  One  by  one  the  searchers  returned 
and  gathered  in  the  ravine  where  the  full  light  of 
the  changeful  moon  rested  steadfastly  upon  the 
moveless  form  over  which  the  Governor  still 
worked  in  vain. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

A    DEFENCE    AND    A    CAPTURE 

NICOLAS  VERRING  drew  the  window 
shade  in  Captain  Fitch's  parlour  and  looked 
out.  The  night  was  still  light  and  clear 
save  in  the  intervals  when  slow  heavy  clouds  pro- 
gressed across  the  moon.  It  was  nearly  midnight 
and  the  house  had  the  dismal  quiet  of  places  where 
healthful  slumber  is  replaced  by  silent  watching 
and  cool  hours  of  the  dark  are  sunk  to  the  dead 
chill  of  fear. 

Alison  came  noiselessly  down  the  stairs  and 
sought  her  husband. 

"  There  is  no  more  that  we  can  do  to-night,  "  she 
whispered.  "Mercy  will  watch  till  dawn;  then 
Martha  will  take  her  place.  I  will  get  my  things. 
They've  laid  them  in  the  stair  closet.  Wilt  thou 
bring  the  candle?" 

While  they  talked,  an  angry  shout  had  rung  out 
at  the  waterside,  but  Boston  slept  profoundly  and 
the  watchers  by  the  sick  had  not  remarked  the 
sound.  Like  an  arm  of  the  land,  Long  Wharf 
reached  out  into  the  sea.  The  Soldan,  at  anchor 
beside  its  farthest  end,  rode  lifelessly  upon  the 
lifeless  water  that  stretched  in  a  metallic  plain  from 
the  broad  curve  of  the  muddy  shore. 

Beneath  the  narrow  shadow  of  the  brigantine 
the  Maid  picked  up  the  knife  the  Lady  had  dropped. 
The  pirate's  treachery  was  meeting  its  reward. 

447 


448         THE   COAST    OF    FREEDOM 

Sir  Humphrey's  shout  had  followed  on  discovery, 
and  the  two  figures  wrestled  in  a  hard-breathed 
struggle  from  dark  to  light  and  back  again  into  the 
shade.  The  girl  glanced  at  them  as  she  bent  to 
seize  the  knife,  and  rising,  moved  in  the  shadow 
toward  the  land. 

Upon  the  wharf  the  struggle  grew  more  violent. 
The  Lady  fell  backward,  losing  his  hold,  and  top- 
pled into  the  placid  waves.  His  cloak  torn  off  in 
the  final  grapple  hung  upon  the  margin  of  the 
planks. 

As  the  cavalier  turned  his  back  to  explore  the 
shadow  for  the  girl,  the  head  of  the  pirate  ap- 
peared above  the  water  and  he  set  off  swimming 
for  the  land,  cursing  the  victor  who  was  already 
hastening  to  overtake  the  girl. 

"Here  he  is!"  Maccartey's  voice  rang  among 
the  ships,  filling  a  ghostly  silence  with  intrusive 
echoes.  "He's  stowed  her  on  the  ship!"  He 
spread  both  arms  as  he  spoke  and  the  running  fig- 
ure lurched  from  the  embrace. 

"Where  is  the  Maid?"  The  Governor  pinioned 
Sir  Humphrey  with  a  resistless  grip. 

"I  know  not.  I  was  seeking  her.  While  I 
chastised  her  enemy  she  ungratefully  made  escape. 
She  cannot  be  far.  "  Behind  the  Governor  a  group 
cut  off  the  shoreward  way.  The  cavalier  stood 
peacefully  in  the  unrelaxing  grasp. 

"  He  lies.  She's  on  the  ship, "  Maccartey  re- 
peated doggedly.  "How  could  she  escape?" 

"Just  strolled  away,  not  even  pausing  to  see 
which  of  us  was  slain, "  Sir  Humphrey  answered 
flippantly.  "An'  you  must  grasp  me  so  lovingly, 


THE   COAST    OF    FREEDOM         449 

Governor  Phips,  pray  beg  your  henchman  here  to 
modify  his  insults. " 

"How  came  you  fighting?"  the  Governor 
asked,  ignoring  the  words.  The  group  had  sur- 
rounded their  prisoner  and  the  questioner  searched 
and  then  released  him,  remaining  where  the  clasp 
could  be  instantly  renewed. 

"The  Lady  would  have  stabbed  her.  I  well- 
nigh  throttled  the  beast,  but  he  escaped  me  by  the 

water Her  I  can  recover  an'  she  be  alive,  but 

'twill  cost  some  exertion  to  secure  the  Lady. "  He 
sighed.  "Here,  good  people,"  he  went  on,  his 
tone  hardening,  "  Get  home  now  and  cease  to  inter- 
fere with  what  concerns  ye  not. " 

"The  violent  carrying  off  of  maids  doth  concern 
this  colony,"  put  in  the  Governor. — "And  other 
traffic  of  a  different  sort. — Your  course  here  is  nigh 
run,  Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass.  What  clemency 
you  can  expect  will  come  from  the  safety  of  the 
Maid. " 

"  Her  safety  regards  me  first  who  am  her  lawful 
guardian  appointed  by  King  James  before  ever 
they  took  her  out  of  England.  Who  hath  so  great 
a  right?  And  more,  I  am  her  kinsman  and  the 
head  of  her  house  as  well.  " 

"Is  thy  name  then  Armitage?" 

Plimly,  flanking  the  cavalier  on  the  farther  side, 
looked  up. 

"No  more  than  she  is.  I  am  Gregory  Belling- 
ham  and  she  my  cousin  Frances, "  he  ended  with 
impatience.  "Are  you  satisfied?" 

"Satisfaction  were  not  so  easy  come  at,"  an- 
swered Sir  William.  "Since  the  name  she  bears 


450          THE  COAST  OF    FREEDOM 

is  worn  to  help  her  from  the  knowledge  of  a  cousin 
Gregory  who  would  take  her  life  ! " 

"  The  proof  !  What  proof  have  ye  of  that  slan- 
der?" demanded  the  man  indignantly.  "Would  I 
tell  it  if  'twere  so?  And  who  else  could  but  cut- 
throats !" 

"Captain  Verring's  no  cut-throat  and  he  heard 
ye  plan  the  murder  on  a  London  wharf, "  the  Gov- 
ernor answered. 

"  A  gentle  tale,  of  weird  imagination.  But  shows 
commendable  ignorance  of  the  ways  of  murderers. 
They  tell  not  their  schemes  on  public  wharves 
where  eavesdroppers  may  gloat  upon  the  story ! 
Ye've  naught  but  speeches  windy  and  nonsensical 
to  back  your  words.  I  have  the  proofs  of  mine. " 

"Produce  them,"  Governor  Phips  commanded 
promptly. 

"Think  ye  I  carry  them  about  to  satisfy  the 
curiosity  of  the  prying  knaves  of  Boston?"  re- 
torted the  cavalier.  "An*  ye'll  wait  me  in  some 
spot  not  too  remote  I  will  fetch  them.  " 

"We  will  go  with  thee, "  the  Governor  assented. 
"Come  thou,  Maccartey  and  Bozoun  Plimly.  'Tis 
so  wily  a  fellow  we  give  him  a  guard.  Zachary,  go 
thou  to  my  Lady  for  me  and  tell  her  that  I  be  gone 
to  the  S.ign  of  the  Orange  Tree  on  business  of  the 
state.  And  the  rest  of  ye  search  the  streets, 
though  'tis  certain  in  my  mind,  an'  there  be  truth 
in  the  tale,  the  Maid  will  be  safe  beneath  my  roof 
by  this. " 

"That's  not  so  sure;  the  pirate  is  abroad,"  put 
in  Sir  Humphrey.  "  He  may  well  have  had  his 
knife  in  her  while  ye've  held  me  here  with  your 
gentle  interest  in  my  ancestry. " 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  451 

"Thou'rt  lying  altogether,"  reiterated  Mac- 
cartey,  unshaken.  "We'll  find  the  Maid  upon  the 
ship. " 

The  Governor  was  giving  directions  to  the  volun- 
teers. 

"And  watch  sharp  for  him  they  call  the  Lady," 
he  ended.  "  I  know  no  better  food  for  carrion.  " 

"The  Maid — you've  found  her?"  Sir  William 
turned  toward  the  shore  as  a  new  voice  broke  upon 
their  colloquy. 

"Roger — 'tis  thou !  Nay,  my  lad,  we've  not 
found  her.  Thou'st  done  well.  I'd  not  expected 
thee,  under  another  hour. " 

"I  leaned  on  Eben's  arm.  'Twas  but  my  head. 
My  legs  be  sound  enough.  The  Soldan  hath  been 
searched?" 

"It  will  be.  None  hath  left  it  since  we  came. 
Do  thou  get  thee  home, "  the  Governor  added. 
"We  shall  make  the  search  thorough.  An' the 
Maid  be  not  found,  for  every  fear  or  ill  that  she 
hath  suffered  his  shall  be " 

Sir  Humphrey  laughed.  '  'Tis  noteworthy  to 
mark,  Captain  Verring,  that  our  strolls  do  so  end 
in  disaster  for  one  of  us.  'Twould  seem  to  dis- 
courage the  use  of  healthful  exercise.  I  thought 
thou'dst  pleasured  the  world  by  getting  out  of  it. 
But  a  Puritan  is  ever  hard  to  kill ! "  He  sighed 
humorously,  as  children  blow  bubbles  from  the 
froth,  and  turned  with  a  shrug  to  look  off  upon 
the  sea. 

Roger  did  not  appear  to  know  the  man  had 
spoken. 

"Every  instant  we  delay  she  may  be  in  peril," 


452  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

he  urged.  "Come  with  me,  two  of  ye."  Before 
he  had  heard  either  denial  or  assent  he  was  on  his 
way  to  the  brigantine.  The  strain  and  sharpness 
in  his  voice  seemed  to  have  gotten  into  his  whole 
body,  and  the  arrest  of  action  to  threaten  the 
bond  between  it  and  the  soul. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

MANY      WATERS 

"Many  waters  cannot  quench  love;  neither  can  the 
floods  drown  it." 

THE  Maid  hid  herself  in  Mackrill  Lane,  and 
kneeling,  with  the  handle  of  the  knife 
clamped  upon  the  stone  flag  that  served 
as  step  to  a  great  warehouse,  she  slipped  the 
sharp  point  beneath  the  thongs  that  held  her 
wrists,  cutting  painfully  through  the  obstinate 
bonds,  then  set  to  work  upon  the  knotted  folds 
that  gagged  and  stifled  her. 

She  worked  as  rapidly  as  her  anxious  haste  al- 
lowed, but  pursuit  might  be  even  now  close  upon 
her.  As  she  pulled  off  the  tight-drawn  bands  of 
silk,  Sir  Humphrey's  neckerchief,  she  imagined 
him  watching  her  close  by,  waiting  the  dramatic 
moment  of  her  uncertain  freedom  to  fasten  on  her 
again. 

Reconnoitring  cautiously  as  she  ventured  forth, 
she  saw  the  group  upon  the  wharf,,  but  felt  a  worse 
fear  lest  these  be  only  added  menace.  Hurrying 
from  them  she  concealed  herself  in  devious  alleys, 
pausing  in  every  shadow,  starting  often  at  a  half- 
suggested  sound  as  if  it  had  been  a  blow  that  took 
from  her  both  breath  and  motion. 

When  she  returned  into  King  street,  after  min- 
utes that  had  compassed  years  in  shuddering 
dread,  the  long  hill  seemed  deserted  and  she  made 

453 


454         THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

haste  to  cross  it,  meaning  to  hide  herself  again  in 
lanes  that  would  take  her  nearer  to  the  refuge  that 
she  sought.  The  moon  had  disappeared  once  more 
under  the  sullen  clouds  that  were  spreading  like 
blots  soaking  in  upon  the  surface  of  the  sky;  the 
way  was  indistinct,  and  she  hastened  the  faster, 
rejoicing  in  the  darkness. 

Comprehension  of  the  cry  she  had  heard  came 
to  her  fully  now  for  the  first  time.  She  had  seen 
Roger  fall,  but  Sir  Humphrey's  flight  had  come  so 
quickly  on  their  discomfiture  she  had  believed  the 
outcry  but  Maccartey's  discovery  of  the  escape. 
Memory,  consciousness  as  well,  had  been  a  mere 
struggle  in  her  mind  that  battled  against  the  thing 
that  threatened  her,  tied  and  impotent  for  any  but 
a  vague  revolt.  The  fight  on  the  wharf,  the  sight 
of  the  sea,  had  awakened  her.  Now  that  the  suc- 
ceeding weakness  of  dreadful  terror  began  to  yield 
to  the  necessity  for  deeds,  she  moved  involuntarily 
toward  the  Governor's. 

It  was  then,  when  she  knew  for  what  she  went, 
that  she  saw  the  succour  she  would  beg  must  be  too 
late.  Roger's  face,  the  blood  upon  his  cheek, 
the  dead  iiuertness  of  his  figure,  the  hours  that  had 
passed  since  she.  had  seen  him  fall,  more  than  all, 
the  desolation  in  Maccartey's  voice,  proved  to  her 
that  the  worst  was  true.  The  tenseness  of  her 
exhausted  mood  left  her  no  room  for  hope, 
sending  her  at  once  to  the  extreme  of  possible 
horror. 

There  was  no  turning  opposite  the  lane  by  which 
she  had  emerged  into  the  broader  thoroughfare 
and  she  hurried  quickly  on  the  farther  side,  no 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  455 

longer  afraid  but  keeping  mechanically  upon  the 
track  she  had  earlier  chosen. 

There  had  been  more  than  one  of  the  Lady's 
men  unhurt  after  the  fight.  Was  Roger,  done  to 
death  for  her,  lying  at  their  mercy,  even  his  body 
unguarded  from  their  profaning  touch  ?  Or  had 
Maccartey  stayed  to  watch?  What  could  she  do 
with  life  sucked  dry  of  meaning,  emptied  of  itself  ? 
In  the  obscurity  to  which  her  eyes  had  not  grown 
used  she  overtook  two  who  walked  more  slowly, 
and  she  had  come  swiftly  against  them  before  she 
had  even  guessed  she  was  not  alone  in  the  whole 
street. 

Her  scream  was  low  and  had  less  sound  of  fright 
than  final  torture.  She  could  not  have  answered 
a  simple  greeting  without  betrayal  of  her  grief. 

"Be  not  affrighted,  woman;  we  will  not  harm 
thee. "  Nicolas  Verring's  voice  gave  kindly  reas- 
surance. 

"  'Tis  some  one  suffering — she  is  weeping,"  his 
wife  said,  quickly. 

"Madam  Verring" — the  low  cry  flung  itself  out 
to  her  as  to  a  shelter  gained,  and  the  girl's  hands 
sought  her  in  the  dark.  "They  have  killed 
him " 

"Whom  is't  ye  mean,  woman  ?  Hath  there  been 
murder?"  Mr.  Verring  spoke  again,  rebukingly 
as  to  a  rash  hysteria  naught  less  than  murder  could 
excuse,  but  his  wife  understood. 

"  'Tis  Roger, "  she  cried  instantly,  and  herself 
held  upon  the  outstretched  clasp,  not  weeping  but 
grown  icy  cold.  "  Nicolas — 'tis  Roger.  " 

"Why  was  it  Roger?" — the  girl's  cry  again — 


456  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

the  futile  appeal.  "There  was  none  to  care — foi 

me 'Twas  dark  or  I  could  have  seen — and 

taken  the  blow  instead " 

"And  now — you  were  going  " — Nicolas  Verring's 
tones  broke  under  the  weight  of  what  she  told; 
the  moon  drawing  out  from  its  close  covering 
showed  him  bent,  moving  unsteadily  as  if  to  find 
support. 

"To  the  Governor's.  He  is  there — in  the  woods. 
— None  but  Maccartey — and  there  be  four  left 
of " 

"Where — in  the  woods?"  Nicolas  Verring's 
voice  again.  His  grasp  had  found  his  wife  and 
clung  as  men  cling  under  the  knife. 

The  sense  of  them,  these  two  who  had  given 
Roger  being,  thrilled  and  sustained  her.  She  told 
the  story,  all  she  knew,  as  they  went  onward.  The 
awful  reality  of  her  grief,  one  with  their  own, 
swept  from  their  minds  even  the  memory  of  false 
accusation.  And  when  she  came  to  the  end  of  the 
struggle  in  the  dark  and  what  the  light  had  shown, 
Nicolas  interrupted,  straightening  his  shoulders 
with  a  powerful  hope. 

"Then  you  are  not  sure!  He  is  young.  We 
may  find  him  living.  Sir  William  will  go  with  us. 
He  knows  the  way  you  speak  of,  I  do  not.  Let  us 
make  haste. " 

His  quickened  pace  was  a  kind  of  running,  but 
they  kept  with  him  step  for  step.  The  girl  had  no 
hope.  Power  for  all  sense  or  feeling  but  pain  was 
snapped. 

Lady  Phips  came  out  to  them  in  swift  agitation. 

"I    do   not    know A    message    came 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  457 

The  man  gave  it  to  Debby  and  ran  to  join  the  search 
forthee."  She  turned  to  the  Maid.  "He  said 
only  that  Sir  William  is  at  the  Inn  of  the  Orange 
Tree.  The  Governor  is  but  now  come  from  the 
woods.  He  followed  Roger  and  Captain  Mac- 
cartey " 

"Then  'tis  there  we  must  go.  "  Nicolas  Verring 
turned  quickly  back. 

"Sir  William  would  not  leave  him  unless" — • 
began  Alison,  trembling  sorely,  but  she  could  not 
finish.  Her  husband  did  not  speak  again.  What 
days  and  years  his  soul  re-lived  in  the  long  journey 
of  the  silent  streets  none  could  have  guessed  but 
the  woman  who  moved  beside  him,  broken  with 
the  memory  of  separation,  and  bearing  his  sorrow 
with  her  own. 

By  them  walked  the  girl,  swiftly,  with  neither 
tears  nor  words,  the  quick  of  her  stabbed  through 
with  death  and  creeping  deeper  into  that  fastness 
whose  walls,  left  undefended  in  her  misery,  had 
crashed  before  her  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

THE    OLD    WAY 

THE  light  streamed  weakly  from  the  un- 
shuttered parlour  of  the  Inn  and  a  yellow 
gleam  showed  in  Sir  Humphrey's  windows. 
In  the  street  below  a  watching  figure  was  visible  to 
seeking  eyes,  precaution  against  possible  escape. 

Simon  Bolt,  mystery  and  excitement  in  his  face 
where  the  heavy  lids  blinked  sleepily,  went  from 
house  to  street  and  back  again,  or  questioned  the 
suddenly  laconic  Plimly  on  the  landing  above  the 
stair.  For  a  little,  Nicolas  Verring  seemed  to  de- 
lay upon  the  path,  failing  before  the  mastery  of 
his  dread,  but  the  sentinel  had  seen  them,  ex- 
claiming at  the  Maid  on  whom  the  fitful  glamour 
of  the  moon  had  cast  a  broken  radiance. 

Unconsciously  the  girl  had  kept  the  same  pace 
and  so  had  gone  beyond  the  others,  drawing  more 
quickly  near  the  entrance.  But  steps  faster  than 
her  own  sounded  upon  the  street,  and  Roger,  dis- 
tancing Maccartey,  sprang  past  them  through  the 
open  door. 

"  She  is  not  there  ! "  they  heard  him  say  hurriedly 
to  Bozoun  who  leaned  from  the  stair  to  listen. 

"  My  son  ! "     The  cry  was  Nicolas  Verring's. 

The  Maid  drew  back  suddenly,  heard  Roger's 
"Father!"  and  knew  that  Alison  was  clinging  un- 
rebuked  in  her  boy's  arms.  Anything  more  was 

458 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  459 

blank  to  her  till  she  came  with  the  rest  into  the  dim 
hall  and  stood  upon  the  threshold  of  the  lighted 
room.  The  mother  looked  up  at  her  and  back  to  a 
place  by  her  own  side.  The  men  were  talking  in 
suppressed  tones,  with  determined  emphasis  in 
every  motion. 

Roger  had  sprung  to  them  startled,  hearing  their 
words. 

" Give  her  to  him!  Not  if  the  King  were 

here  to "  The  voice  went  on,  but  the  listener, 

raising  his  eyes  to  the  Governor's  face,  had  seen 
beyond  him  in  the  gilt-framed  mirror  and  stared 
upon  it  like  one  who  knows  he  is  already  mad. 
Nor  did  he  lower  his  eyes  nor  move  till  the  girl  her- 
self put  out  her  hand  to  lean  upon  the  solid  frame- 
work of  the  door. 

To  the  Maid  the  place  to  which  she  was  beck- 
oned seemed  infinitely  far  away.  And  she  felt 
alone,  even  in  her  rejoicing,  her  pride  of  self  con- 
tainment striving  to  rally  against  overwhelming 
odds.  She  tried  to  stir  from  the  spot  to  which  she 
had  come  unwitting  what  she  did,  to  go  back  to 
the  night  and  find  cover  for  the  nakedness  of  her 
soul's  joy,  but  the  body  no  longer  answered  to  the 
will,  and  she  lifted  her  eyes  up,  blind  with  her 
tears  and  forgetting  all  other  refuge,  as  Roger 
turned  from  the  figure  in  the  mirror  to  know  that 
she  was  there. 

When  the  voices  came  to  them  again  so  that  the 
words  made  sense  in  the  oblivion  of  their  happi- 
ness, the  group  of  men  had  broken,  and  Maccartey 
gone  without  to  strengthen  the  vigilance  of  the 
sentinel. 


46o  THE   COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

"What  is  it,  Nicolas?"  Alison  Verring  was 
asking  earnestly.  "Doth  he  demand  the  Maid?" 

"Who?"  Temple  gazed  from  one  to  the  other 
of  those  that  had  been  talking. 

"Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass.  He  saith  he  is  thy 
cousin  and  thy  guardian  appointed  by  King  James 
when  thou  wast  still  a  child.  " 

"  'Tis  not  true,  "  the  Maid  said  quickly.  "  How 
could  that  be,  yet  I  not  know  it.  Mr.  Amory  hath 
governed  my  affairs  as  was  my  father's  wish  nor 
hath  he  been  molested. " 

"  'Tis  a  curious  thing  he  hath  not  been  molested 
an'  he  be  not  the  one  appointed  by  the  law, "  com- 
mented Mr.  Verring,  who  had  stepped  back  to  stand 
beside  his  son. 

"He  declareth  he  hath  proofs,  and  so  the  power 
to  take  thee  hence,  since  thou  art  not  yet  of  age. " 
The  Governor  spoke  without  alarm.  "Of  course 
he  knoweth  he  cannot  have  thee, "  he  added  com- 
fortably. 

"  But  if  the  proofs  be  there  and  we  defy  the  law 
he  will  take  vengeance  on  thee — on  all  who  would 
defend "  The  girl  began, 

"  He'll  not  succeed.  "  The  Governor  interrupted 
her.  "The  man's  a  spy  of  the  French.  Fear  naught 
for  us. " 

"You  have  the  proof?"  Nicolas  Verring  asked 
the  question  without  marking  the  warning  frown 
that  would  have  stopped  it. 

"The  man  taketh  a  wondrous  time!  Doth 
he  think  we  can  wait  for  him  to  compose  his 
documents!"  The  Governor  gazed  upward 
testily. 


THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM  461 

Temple's  look  was  still  fixed  on  him,  refusing  to 
be  deceived. 

"You  shall  not  endanger  yourselves  for  me," 
she  said  with  calmness.  "  I  will  prevent  it.  "  The 
decision  in  her  tone,  the  force  with  which  she  con- 
quered the  weakness  of  her  body  and  faced  the 
horror  of  the  possible  truth,  woke  a  stern  gleam 
of  battle  in  Nicolas  Verring's  eyes. 

"Thou'lt  yield  no  jot  to  the  villain,  let  him 
prove  what  he  will, "  he  said  vehemently. 

Alison  laid  her  fingers  gently  on  the  Maid's. 

"Thou'lt  not  leave  us — when  we've  just  found 
thee, "  she  said  softly. 

Temple  turned  to  her  with  the  great  glow  of  un- 
expected joyousness  breaking  over  her  face. 

"I've  loved  thee" — she  answered  quickly — 
"from  the  dinner  at  the  Governor's — even  be- 
fore I " 

Alison  tightened  her  clasp  upon  the  firm  hand 
beneath  her  own.  Roger  had  said  nothing  of  Sir 
Humphrey's  proofs.  What  difference  would  they 
make  ?  The  universe  in  arms  should  not  take  her 
from  him. 

A  shout  broke  on  their  waiting.  While  it  still 
echoed  Roger  was  without  the  house.  The  sen- 
tinel was  struggling  with  a  man  who  had  a  knife. 
The  blade  showed  in  the  light.  Maccartey  from 
his  station  close  beyond  was  almost  upon  the  two. 
The  man  struck  downward,  and  wrenching  free 
from  the  wounded  arm,  tore  himself  away  and 
darted  from  them  at  the  moment  Roger  leaped 
across  the  threshold.  In  the  final  twisting  wrench 
he  had  faced  the  house. 


462          THE   COAST   OF   FREEDOM 

"  'Tis  the  Lady  ! " 

Roger  was  already  far  up  the  deserted  street, 
Maccartey  close  upon  him.  But  the  man  had 
vanished,  eluding  them  cunningly. 

"  He  came  from  that  window,  down  the  tree " 

the  sentinel  explained  as  they  returned. 

He  pointed  to  Sir  Humphrey's  room,  now  dark, 
where  the  open  casement  gaped  upon  them 
strangely. 

Bozoun  holding  doggedly  to  his  watching  in  the 
hall,  questioned  Simon  Bolt  who  had  dozed  upon 
his  vigil,  and  knew  nothing. 

"  He  is  not  come  out  ? "  Roger  asked  the  ques- 
tion from  below. 

"  Nay,  "  Plimly  answered.  "  Nor  hath  there  been 
a  sound,  but  he  hath  doused  his  candle.  Doubt- 
less he  comes  now.  Who  watches  beneath  the 
windows  ? " 

"Eben " 

The  others  had  looked  forth  wondering. 

"  Follow  with  me.  You  Maccartey,  and  Bozoun.  " 
Sir  William  was  on  the  stair,  Roger  already  be- 
side him. 

"  'Tis  a  great  day  for  the  improving  of  the  mus- 
cles, "  whispered  the  sailor  with  a  wry  look  of  weari- 
ness. "I  think  we've  run  our  hundred  leagues," 
but  he  ceased  to  jest  when  silence  answered  to  the 
knock. 

Simon  Bolt,  yawning  no  longer,  blinked  fast  with 
curious  eagerness,  holding  the  candle  near  and 
grumbling  disapproval  as  they  attacked  the  door. 

The  draught  blew  the  flame,  grotesquely  danc- 
ing. In  its  inconstant  light  the  room  appeared, 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  463 

peaceful,  undisturbed.  At  the  table  a  figure  was 
seated ;  with  the  fitful  blaze  and  dying  of  the  candle 
it  seemed  to  move.  They  drew  nearer  and  stood 
beside  it,  seeing  the  head  fallen  forward  and  the 
letter  unfinished  that  it  partly  hid.  Simon  Bolt  held 
the  flaring  gleam  tremulously  nearer  yet  and  showed 
the  clean  cut  upon  the  closely  fitted  doublet  where 
the  dagger  had  struck  through.  The  breeze  flut- 
tered the  lace  about  the  fallen  hand  and  swayed 
the  heavy  curtains  of  the  bed. 

Governor  Phips  drew  out  the  letter  and  read  it 
standing  where  he  was.  The  tallow  splashed  upon 
it  from  the  candle  and  the  smell  of  the  teased  wick 
blended  with  the  words. 

"Sir  Humphrey  Wildglass,  "  so  it  went,  "regrets 
y*  hee  is  unable  to  accept  the  Governor's  urgent 
invitacion  to  attend  him  further,  the  way  by  the  roof 
of  the  Orange  Tree  seducinge  with  better  Promisse 
— but  hee  hopeth  in  ye  neare  Futur  to  return  in  full 
measur  those  Favors  wch  he  hath  recd  att  ye 
h " 

The  writing  failed  upon  the  broken  h  and  a  trail- 
ing line  wavered  a  little  across  the  page  where  the 
fingers  that  still  grasped  the  quill  had  dropped. 

The  Governor's  eyes  went  about  the  room  to  see 
if  there  was  other  egress  than  the  hall. 

"  How  reachest  thou  the  roof,  Simon  ? "  he  asked 
perplexedly. 

"By  this  stairway  closet,  sir.  "  The  innkeeper's 
hoarse  whispering  sounded  loud  in  the  stillness. 
He  threw  wide  an  unlatched  door  and  showed  the 
ladder  mounting  from  a  storeroom  to  the  garret 
overhead. 


464          THE   COAST   OF  FREEDOM 

They  closed  the  swinging  sash  that  slammed 
upon  its  hinges,  and  lifting  the  figure,  still  warm 
with  life  that  had  burned  hot  within,  laid  it  upon 
the  curtained  bed.  The  pulseless  arms  fell  stiffly, 
but  the  face  smiled  on  them  in  derision  as  if  it  spoke 
the  words  the  hand  had  penned. 

Below  the  women  were  talking  quietly.  Then  a 
man's  tone  rose  upon  their  speaking. 

"  'Twas  God's  good  Providence  sent  us  to  the 
sick  this  eve, "  Nicolas  Verring  was  saying  rever- 
ently. '  'Tis  the  first  night  in  many  months  we 
have  been  abroad  beyond  a  seemly  hour.  " 

"  Had  we  not  met  thee  as  we  did,  thou'd  not  have 
shown  us  thy  true  self — we'd  not  have  known  thee 

as  that  moment "  Alison's  sight  dimmed  as 

she  turned  to  the  stairway,  and  she  saw  those 
who  descended  through  a  shining  cloud. 

The  Maid  and  Roger  went  slowly  as  they  left  the 
inn. 

"Thou'lt  take  her  home,"  the  Governor  had 
said.  "She's  wearied,  lad,  and  I  must  wait.  Thy 
father  will  assist  me  here  in  all  I  need.  Tell  Mary 
all  is  well — she'll  know  that  when  she  greets  ye, 
though " 

Without  slow  speech  or  formal  answer  they  fol- 
lowed their  unuttered  thought,  mounted  the  hill 
beyond  the  miller's  stream,  and  found  the  Old 
Way  by  the  Pond.  Lingering  as  they  passed, 
they  gazed  with  a  new  vision  on  the  staunch  walls 
of  Roger's  home.  At  the  willow  bent  like  a  camel 
they  stopped. 

"  Rest  here  a  little.     I  am  but  selfish  to  ask  thee 


THE  COAST  OF   FREEDOM  465 

to  come  so  far.  "  He  unclasped  his  cloak  and  threw 
the  loose  folds  upon  the  trunk. 

"Thou  didst  not  ask "  Even  then  she 

paused  upon  the  thou,  a  quick  warmth  rising  in  her 
cheek.  "I  have  come  before,"  she  finished  softly. 
She  had  sat  down  once  more  upon  the  willow 
seat  where  she  had  rested  in  the  dark  May  night. 

He  bent  to  hear  and  drew  her  gently  to  lean 
against  his  side. 

"  Thou— I  thought " 

"Thought  what?"  she  asked  in  the  same  under- 
tone, the  voice  that  fears  to  wake  the  hour  to  fullest 
consciousness  lest  it  should  then  depart.  "What 
didst  thou  think  ?  " 

"Thou  lovedst  me  not. — I  had  no  wonder.  I 
knew  the  dulness  of  my  ways — the  Puritan " 

She  interrupted,  her  low  tone  challenging  the 
hour  with  strongest  life. 

"Thou'lt  never  know — even  if  I  told  thee  all  my 
days — how  much  I  love  thee.  " 

The  brief  moments  of  their  lingering  gave  might- 
ily the  largess  they  had  been  denied. 

"  Let  me  not  ever,  "  he  pleaded  as  they  rose  to  go, 
"grieve  thee  with  what  seems  strange,  with  what 
is  come  of  all  that's  been  so  different  in  our " 

"Thou  wilt  not,"  she  answered,  breaking  again 
upon  the  halting  words.  "And  thou'lt  forgive  me 

if  I  sometimes  seem  but  slow  to  understand 

I  see  things  clearer  now Love  teacheth  us,  I 

think. " 

The  Mill  Pond  rippled  upon  the  bank.  The  snow 
lay  white  where  the  willows  stood,  and  caught  the 
shadows  of  their  waving  strands.  Her  face,  up- 


466  THE  COAST  OF  FREEDOM 

turned  to  his,  had  its  own  light  more  lovely  than 
the  glamour  of  the  moon. 

Beneath  his  look  she  smiled  and  then  grew  wistful 
with  the  soberness  of  joy  more  strong  than  grief. 

"  'Tis  like  the  flowers,  "  he  said.  "  'Tis  happiness 
we  need  not  fear, — and  gives  us  knowledge — even 
of  Him. " 

"I  could  be  pitiful  for  all  the  world  to-night." 
Her  voice  had  found  again  its  undertone. 

"I  too,  for  all  save  those  who  would  do  harm  to 
thee, "  he  said,  and  held  her  close  against  a  sudden 
anger  of  remembered  pain. 

"Nay,  for  all,"  she  answered.  "We  cannot 
know  how  they  may  need  our  ruth. " 


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SECTION  OF 

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SHOWING    MADE  LAND 


